


heart of stone and eyes of fire

by princehuangss



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Character Death, Enemies to Lovers, Gladiator Donghyuck, M/M, Prince Mark Lee (NCT), Slow Burn, fictional countries, prisoners of war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princehuangss/pseuds/princehuangss
Summary: Life was unfair.If it was, Donghyuck would have still been living with his family in Condor, swimming in the ocean until his lips turned blue. He would not be here in an unfamiliar country, being forced to take part in their sport of death.If life was fair, Donghyuck would have never had to encounter their crown prince and bane of Donghyuck's existence, Mark Lee.It seemed that good fortune had long since turned its back on Donghyuck, and he had all but given up and accepted his fate.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 57
Kudos: 95





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the first chapter of my "gladiator fic" that I have actually been planning for months!
> 
> PLEASE be warned that there is a fair load of violence and death. This is not a cute and happy fic, and while there will hopefully be some cute moments later on, we'll have to get through a lot of grim stuff first.
> 
> With that in mind, please enjoy Mark and Donghyuck being idiots! :D

Whenever Donghyuck thought back to that fateful day in June, a sour taste filled his mouth. It had started out as much too lovely a day, the sun shining brightly down on the nation of Condor and the salty sea breeze preventing the air from becoming too hot. Donghyuck almost wished that it had been raining and thundering or something of that sort; then maybe what was to come would have felt less like a stab in the back.

He had woken up that morning and it was just like any other; in his stuffy bed that he shared with his little brother, in their family’s cottage, nestled in a tiny village. As usual he had been the last one to rise; only his mother’s abrasive shouting about how much of a lazy lump he was managed to rouse him.

“Lee Donghyuck, get down here!” his mother shouted for the seventh or eighth time, “You need to eat your breakfast before it gets cold! And don’t forget, you have to help your father at the market today!”

Donghyuck groaned. He yanked the sheets from over his head and immediately regretted it when the harsh rays from outside seemed to stab at his eyes like his father’s fishing hooks. He stumbled out of his bed, shoving his legs into the first pair of pants he found. It was a wonder that he managed to get out the door with a shirt, hat, and pair of shoes without sustaining an injury.

Every Sunday was the same; Donghyuck would head down to the shoreline and into the center of town, where the weekly market was being held. He’d assist his father in selling his catches from the week like a good, filial son. It was a tedious task for Donghyuck, but he did it without complaint because if they managed to make good sales by mid-afternoon, his father would release him and let him go swimming down in the harbor.

By the time Donghyuck made it onto mainstreet, the market was in full swing. Unlike every other day of the week, the street was void of horse and mule-drawn wagons, the cobblestone instead being covered by stands, crates with goods, and crowds of bustling people. The sky was a pale blue, practically blending into the low-standing, whitewashed buildings on either side of the street. The air was filled with all of the sounds that made Donghyuck think of home; the waves gently lapping against the shore in the distance, the seabirds calling from above, and most of all, the deafening sound of human voices calling over each other in greeting, or bartering on prices.

People shouted hellos at Donghyuck from all around as he pushed through the crowds. He returned each one with a hello of his own, and an enthusiastic wave. Everybody knew everyone in this town, so it was no doubt that everyone knew Donghyuck, the loud and boisterous fisherman’s son who was friends with everyone, from the youngest child to the wisest elder.

Donghyuck’s father’s stand sat almost at the end of the road. It was one of the biggest and busiest stands, so it was no surprise that Donghyuck had to push through quite a lot of people before he even spotted his father.

“Donghyuck!” his father called out with gritted teeth once he finally spotted his son. “Where have you been? It’s too busy here for me to do business all on my own!”

Donghyuck grinned sheepishly. “I… slept in?”

His father rolled his eyes and let out a weary huff. “Of course you were,” he muttered, and looked as if he wanted to reprimand Donghyuck further, but Donghyuck was saved by a customer needing assistance. 

He moved out to the front of his stand while his father was busy ringing the customer up. Donghyuck got straight to work doing what he did best, loudly advertising the sale of fish to every passerby and answering any questions they had. Mrs. Kim and her two young twins came by to purchase some fresh clams like they did every week, and Donghyuck struck up a conversation until his attention was pulled away by Mr. and Mrs. Park, who were inquiring about what fish would go best in stew.

Donghyuck kept so busy that he didn’t even notice when the clock tower in the town center struck noon.

“Donghyuck!” his father called from over behind the counter. Donghyuck’s head spun around from where he was fixing the twine on their wooden sign.

“Yes father?” he responded.

His father held up a small sack of coins. “It’s about lunch time. Run and get me a sandwich at Sooyoung’s stand, and get whatever you want for yourself.”

Donghyuck leapt up from his crouching position, sign quickly forgotten. Sooyoung’s sandwiches were to die for, and just the thought made his stomach growl. He snatched the coins from his father, saying a quick, “I’ll be back!” before rushing on down the crowded street.

Sooyoung’s stand was just a few rows down. Donghyuck approached the stand and was overjoyed to see that Sooyoung herself was working it. The young woman had always had a soft spot for Donghyuck, and always gave him a little extra meat in his sandwiches.

Her eyes lit up when he came up to the stand. “Donghyuck-ah!” She cooed, reaching out to ruffle his curly brown hair. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing great! Helping father with the fish as usual.” Donghyuck watched carefully as Sooyoung got straight to work on his sandwiches. Donghyuck came here so often, she didn’t even need to ask what he wanted anymore.

“You’re being helpful I hope,” she asked in a playful tone. Donghyuck responded with an indignant squawk, and Sooyoung laughed. “I’m only asking, because those rascals over there have done nothing but cause trouble today.”

Donghyuck followed the direction in which Sooyoung’s neatly manicured hand pointed. His eyes fell upon his three best friends— Yerim, Dejun, and Kunhang. The trio was sitting over on the grass munching on their own sandwiches. Donghyuck watched as Kunhang said something with his mouth full, which caused Yerim to shove him over and Dejun to double over with laughter. Donghyuck’s face split into a grin.

He quickly grabbed his sandwiches, handing Sooyoung his coins with a quick word of thanks before rushing over to his friends. Surely his father could wait just a few minutes longer.

“I didn’t think I would see you guys today!” Donghyuck called to his friends as he made his way over. Yerim sighed with relief when Donghyuck plopped down next to them.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Donghyuck. Tell this idiot—” she pointed to Kunhang— “to stop being gross, please.”

“Hey!” Kunhang shouted, mouth once again full of chewed food. Yerim gasped in horror.

“Oh my god! You feel no remorse, do you?!”

Donghyuck joined Dejun as he was sent into another round of cackles, and his chest felt light. It was easy to forget all of his other problems when he was with his friends, soaking up the Sunday sun and breathing in the salty air. Sooyoung’s sandwich with extra meat was like heaven on his tongue, and he felt warm where Dejun had subconsciously thrown his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders.

That moment, when all felt perfectly right in the world, was one Donghyuck would never forget as the last moment he had felt truly happy.

It was right in the middle of an enrapturing story from Yerim about how she got in trouble for accidentally letting their family’s chickens loose, when they heard the first scream.

Donghyuck jolted in surprise, glancing up at the street just in time to see Mrs. Kim from earlier running down the crowded street, dragging her twins along as if her life depended on it. Donghyuck’s heart began to thud violently in his chest as all of a sudden Mrs. Kim was joined with more and more screams and shouts. People began to all take off down the street in the same direction.

His friends shot to their feet at the same time as Donghyuck, all looking just as bewildered. 

“What the hell is going on?” Yerim shouted over the chaos that had erupted. She marched forward to see and Donghyuck followed close behind, despite all of his instincts screaming at him not to, desperately telling him to turn around and run to the sea. The sea, where he had always felt safe. Whatever it was making these people run, Donghyuck could probably hide from it in the rocky cliffs of the harbor.

“Oh my god!” Yerim screamed, grinding to a halt. “It’s Valkan soldiers!”

Donghyuck’s blood ran cold, like ice in his veins.

It couldn’t be, could it?

Even as he came to a stop at Yerim’s side and took in the sight of the blood red uniforms and shining armor, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it was true.

How could they…?

It had been an unspoken rule for centuries upon centuries that Valka or any of the surrounding nations would not interfere with Condor’s affairs. While undoubtedly the smallest country in this part of the world, Condor’s rich history dated back twice as far as any country around it. They had gone undisturbed for as long as history had been recorded. Even as Valka’s monarchy became more and more corrupt and they began conquering small nations one after another, they had seemed to understand that Condor wasn’t to be touched.

Until now.

Soldiers on foot led the invasion, armed with shining blades and flaming torches. They were followed close behind by men on massive, raven colored horses. Donghyuck watched frozen in horror as they snatched his people up, taking some with them and leaving the rest for dead. They moved down the cobblestone street with quick, bloodthirsty precision; Donghyuck wanted to scream and cry at them to stop, but no part of his body felt like his anymore.

He watched as one of the soldiers grabbed onto a screaming and struggling Sooyoung, and that’s what finally shocked him back to life. He was about to burst forward but he was beat to it by a furious Dejun. Donghyuck’s friend bolted forward, face soaked with tears and screaming bloody murder.

It happened so fast, Donghyuck barely registered it. One moment Dejun was throwing a punch at one of the guard’s faces, yanking on the arm holding onto Sooyoung with all his might, and the very next Dejun was on the ground, eyes wide and torso drenched with blood. Another soldier slid his blade out of Dejun’s stomach, wiping it off on his tunic and continuing on as if Dejun had been nothing but a pesky fly on the wall.

Donghyuck fell to his knees, unable to take his eyes off of his friend’s limp form. His throat stung, and Donghyuck realized that he was screaming now too, but no sounds registered besides the deafening ringing in his ears. He felt numb all over, and it was as if his soul was floating just a few feet outside his body. He felt like he was watching himself from a distance as a passing soldier snatched him up as well without any trouble.

He didn’t struggle, he didn’t kick or bite or try and claw his way out like he should have. Instead he laid there, limp like a ragdoll as the soldier jostled him over one shoulder. Tears were flowing out of his eyes at a rapid rate now, blurring his vision so he could barely see. 

The last things he remembered of his home were the disastrous remains of the Sunday market, crates and stands alike tipped over and up in flames all along the street. He also remembers looking up at the sky, and seeing the once pale blue completely blocked out by a layer of putrid smoke.   
  
  
  


That was almost a year ago. 

The next time he had woken up it had been in Valka. He hadn’t heard from a single one of his friends or family members since. Occasionally, when he’d be shepherded through the streets by the latest Valkan socialite paying for his labor, he’d catch the eye of someone from the village that he recognized. He’d pass them by, and sometimes they’d make eye contact. Occasionally there would even be a flicker of recognition, a look of hesitation as they longed to reach out to a kindred spirit, but their Valkan masters would drag them away before they could even register what had happened.

This day was like any other. Donghyuck was busy doing the laundry for some stuck up rich woman who refused to even look him in the eye. He was down here at the river, sweating in the summer heat and desperately attempting to wash this woman’s massive evening gowns without damaging them. How she managed to carry all this fabric around for an entire evening without wanting death astounded Donghyuck.

He glanced up and down the river, hoping to spot one of his people who had maybe been tasked with doing laundry for their masters as well. It was a rarity that Donghyuck was allowed to go off and do chores on his own like this, so he wanted to take advantage of it. However, not a single person had joined him at the river thus far today. He only had the buzzing cicadas and gentle flow of the river to keep him company.

It was in the middle of dragging a basket of his master’s nightgowns down to the water’s edge when he heard sudden commotion coming from the docks.

He glanced down towards the sea. The capital of Valka was situated on the side of a mountain that overlooked the port, so anyone could have a perfect view over the bay at any given spot in the city.

It seemed that a massive ship had just docked in the port. Donghyuck would normally just shake it off as one of Valka’s merchant ships, but the massive navy blue sails told Donghyuck that that was certainly not the case. 

Donghyuck dropped the offending basket of clothes in his arms. Consider him intrigued! 

He hesitantly began moving through the grass and away from the river, building up to a sprint as he headed towards the port. He knew he’d be in monumental trouble if his master knew what he was doing, but sometimes his curiosity won over his common sense.

Donghyuck was sure to take all of the back alleyways and hidden paths as to avoid the sight of Valkan’s elite. They all knew each other in some way or another, and Donghyuck knew if that one of them were to catch sight of him causing trouble, then word would spread through the city and to his master quicker than wildfire.

He somehow managed to make it to docks without being spotted. It was a bit trickier once he got there though; the docks were in a state of total pandemonium. They were normally one of the busiest parts of the city, but today they were even more bustling than ever.

Donghyuck hid behind an abandoned cart and peered at the people populating the docks. His eyebrows furrowed. Everyone seemed to be in a panic; the people he recognized as Valkans were running about and shouting and… a legion of unfamiliar men seemed to be herding them about like cattle. They were wearing navy blue uniforms to match the sails of the unfamiliar ship.

Hmm. Definitely not Valkan soldiers. In fact, judging off their hostile behavior, it was likely that they were leading some sort of attack on the city. A sick sort of thrill flooded Donghyuck’s vein. His master’s clothes long forgotten, he surged forward to go investigate the ship.

By some miracle from the higher powers, he neared the ship without so much as a scratch. He crept along the starboard side, one watchful eye out for any of the unfamiliar soldiers. 

Donghyuck scanned the wooden boards of the ship for any indication as to where the ship was from. The name of the ship,  _ The Siren,  _ was printed in big golden letters along the side. Donghyuck was in awe at the way the gold paint glittered in the sun. The whole ship was so regal, with a beautifully carved figurehead standing proudly at the front, and pristine sails fluttering in the wind. It looked extremely fortuitous too— the boards that made up the ship were of solid, sturdy wood that could surely weather even the worst storms.

Donghyuck had always been fascinated by ships, and the idea of sailing. He had grown up by the sea, watching his father spend every day out on the water in his humble little fishing vessel. Oh, how he longed to someday sail a vessel of his own.

“Hey, you there!”

Donghyuck jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sudden booming voice, and his blood ran cold. He had gotten so distracted with staring at the ship that he had completely forgotten about the fact that he couldn’t be seen.

Donghyuck looked towards the sound just in time to see a furious looking soldier storming towards him. He barely had the chance to put his hands up in surrender before the soldier was on top of him, grabbing at his arms to tie them behind his back. 

“Hey, wait!” Donghyuck tried to shout as the soldier threw him over one shoulder like he was nothing but a sack of flour. “I’m not— I’m not Valkan, I promise!”

“Sure, kid. Whatever you say,” growled the soldier. He walked up the gangway and onto the ship, still carrying Donghyuck.

Donghyuck opened his mouth to continue arguing, but he let it fall shut when he realized that anything he could say would just fall on deaf ears. How was Donghyuck supposed to convince this man that he didn’t want to be in Valka anymore than any of them?

Not that Donghyuck wanted to be carried off to somewhere strange yet again. He’d had enough of feeling subhuman for his whole life. But right now there was nothing he could do except try to hold his head study, because it was slamming against the soldier’s back and it  _ hurt _ .

It was difficult to see what was going on around him due to his position, but he could gather that they had boarded the ship now. The first level of the ship looked neat and well kept, but the soldier took a sharp turn down a set of very steep stairs, and the lower they descended the more foul the conditions became. 

The floor they did finally stop on stunk of raw sewage, and there was a thin layer of standing water sloshing around unpleasantly at their feet. The soldier seemed to be as equally disgusted as Donghyuck, because he wasted no time in dumping Donghyuck unceremoniously from his shoulder onto the wet floor and scrambling back up the stairs.

There was barely enough light for visibility down here, but Donghyuck could just make out multiple other figures dispersed throughout the floor. Donghyuck assumed they had been taken prisoner like him, and since Donghyuck wasn’t sure how many of them actually warranted a capture, he made himself home in a far corner far enough away from anyone else.

Donghyuck crouched down so as to not soak his behind in the stagnant water any more than it already was. His hands were still bound uncomfortably behind him, forcing Donghyuck to rest his fists on the small of his back. Terrible cramps were beginning to form in his shoulders from the awkward position. His calves and ankles burned like hell from the strain of crouching, but somehow the pain seemed better than succumbing to the squalid conditions. He was positive he even heard a rat skittering around somewhere, and the thought made Donghyuck shiver.

It seemed like forever that he had to sit and wait for the ship to leave, and another eternity began as he waited for the ship to arrive at its destination. It occurred to Donghyuck that he still didn’t even know who had taken him, or where he was headed.

Donghyuck had originally intended to keep his distance from the other prisoners on the ship for his own safety, but his curiosity eventually got the better of him. He pinpointed a rather unthreatening old man sitting a little ways away from him, and shuffled over to him on the balls of his feet, still crouching.

“Excuse me,” Donghyuck whispered, quiet enough so that no one else would hear but just loud enough to be heard over the creaking of the ship. The old man only grunted, not even bothering to spare Donghyuck a glance.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Donghyuck asked.

The old man sighed. “We’re headed for the Isles of Rhyfel. Their prisons, to be more precise.”

The Isles of Rhyfel. A kingdom almost as ancient as Condor, but not quite. The group of islands had yet to be conquered by Valka, and Donghyuck doubted that they ever would.

For one thing, the islands were surrounded on all sides by ocean and harsh, rocky cliffs. They weren’t huge, but they were by no means small, and their military power was considered to be one of the most powerful in the world. The King of Rhyfel’s Imperial Guard was feared by even the most formidable Valkan soldier.

There was so much more Donghyuck wished to ask the old man, but it seemed that he had fallen asleep. That, or he was just pretending so Donghyuck would leave him alone. Donghyuck accepted defeat and shuffled back to his corner.

Anger, helplessness, and raw fear began to creep up and grow like tendrils as he sat there alone, with his aching legs. It consumed him like an invasive species of ivy and soon he was choking on frustrated tears. It had all happened so fast that it was only now catching up to him now that he had time to think. Donghyuck felt as if someone had tripped him and sent him flying off his feet, knocking all of the air out of him.

Sure, maybe the Isles of Rhyfel didn’t slaughter and enslave his entire home nation like Valka did, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care whatsoever, because they had taken him away and he was headed to a place that he had no idea what it held in store for him. He was even further from his friends and family than ever before, and there was a good chance he’d never get back to them, or have the opportunity to even find out if they were alive.

To hell with every self-righteous government in this ugly world. They could all burn.

It could have minutes or hours later that the ship finally reached land. Donghyuck fixed an impassive expression on his face as he and the other prisoners on the ship were herded up and shoved into lines like cattle, and marched out onto the docks.

As they finally stepped off the gangway, Donghyuck got his first good look at the land on which they had arrived.

Before them looked to be a bustling city. Towering stone buildings lined narrow streets, on a backdrop of grey sky. It was almost the polar opposite to the low, pristine white buildings and clear, blue sky of Condor, and the sight only served to make Donghyuck even more depressed.

“City of Turrim,” muttered the old man from before, who had somehow made his way to be behind Donghyuck, “Capital of the Isles of Rhyfel, home to the royal family and His Highness' Imperial Guard.”

So this is what it looked like. He had heard tall tales about the city of Turrim from Kunhang many times before. The boy had spoken animatedly about how they slaughtered each other on the streets for fun, how the sun never came out and no one ever smiled. 

Donghyuck had no idea where he had gotten those crazy stories. If anything they sounded more like descriptions of Valka than anything, but maybe he was biased.

As he and the rest of the prisoners were marched down the street like prized catch, Donghyuck glanced around at the citizens of Turrim. They certainly weren’t slaughtering each other left and right, but maybe that was because they were too busy gawking at the prisoner parade. Donghyuck scowled and lowered his gaze to the cobblestone street beneath his feet. He had always basked in the attention of others, but this was bad attention. He didn’t like this at all.

If Donghyuck had thought the tall buildings of the rest of the city were intimidating, then they were nothing compared to the looming stone castle that seemed to grow in size as they marched nearer and nearer. It expanded out of the fog, turret by turret, and Donghyuck didn’t think he’d ever seen a manmade structure so massive.

The march finally ended when they arrived at what must have been Rhyfel’s prisons, like the old man spoke about. Donghyuck was sure to glare harshly at the guard who grabbed hold of his arm and threw him in his own individual cell.

Fuck this, fuck ALL of this. Donghyuck curled up in the far corner of his cell, holding his knees close to his chest and continuing to glare at the guard as he locked the cell door behind him. Fuck these stupid people, taking him away as if he was some sort of animal. Even if he had been a natural born Valkan, why had they taken him prisoner when he had done absolutely nothing to harm them?

He understood being angry at the monarchy who ran that cursed country. They were evil scum and deserved the worst punishment possible. But Donghyuck had been an innocent bystander. Who did these people think they were, dragging him here and treating him like a criminal?

Donghyuck was in the middle of planning his suicide escape mission and digging little divots in the ground with a rock, when a pair of guards approached his cell. He could immediately tell that these ones were much more important than the ones who had led him off the ship. These guards wore a shiny array of pins and medals on their neatly pressed jackets, and Donghyuck swore he could see his reflection in their tall, black boots.

“Hello,” greeted the taller guard. Donghyuck didn’t respond, only glaring at the guard before returning to digging divots in the ground. The guard didn’t seem too bothered by this, continuing on his speech without a hitch.

“We’re here to inform you that as a prisoner of war and a young man your age, you are eligible to serve out your sentence training as a gladiator.”

Donghyuck barked out a laugh, sharp and mean. 

“You’re fucking joking, right? Me join your little death sport all for your own sick entertainment, and for what? Me being in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

The guard’s brows furrowed and he put his hand on the handle of his sheathed sword, which made Donghyuck snort. He was flattered that they thought he was capable of putting up any sort of fight. 

“You’re a citizen of Valka. Are you not aware of the war that is going on? You’re a prisoner of war, and an enemy of the state. We’re being gracious by offering you becoming a gladiator. Otherwise, you face immediate execution!”

Donghyuck sprang to his feet, blood boiling. “For your information, no I was not aware of any war. You want to know why? I’m not even Valkan! I was captured from my home in Condor so I have absolutely no business being treated like a criminal. I’d rather be hanged right now than die later for your entertainment.”

“Fine, then.” The guard sniffed pompously, looking down his nose at Donghyuck. “We’ll arrange for your execution in the morning. You speak too rudely anyways. I’ll be glad to see you gone.”

“Fuck off.” Donghyuck growled. He didn’t care how he spoke to these bastards; they didn’t deserve an ounce of respect. Besides, he had nothing to lose at this point.

After the guards finally shuffled away, Donghyuck huffed out a breath and plopped back on his behind. He scooched himself back into the corners and buried his face in his knees once more.

He thought he’d finally be left alone for the rest of the night. He wanted just a few hours uninterrupted to grieve over his nineteen years of life that would all come to an end tomorrow morning. He just wished to come to terms with the fact that he’d never see his family again, alone in peace. 

Apparently these people couldn’t at least just give him that.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour after the guards had left that Donghyuck heard the telltale sound of boots marching toward his cell, the occasional splash of the puddles of rainwater being stomped through. It sounded like whoever it was came alone, and they stopped directly in front of Donghyuck’s cell.

“Hello,” the voice greeted. It was a man, and he sounded young. He also spoke in a way that exuded privilege; posh, pompous, and self important. Donghyuck rolled his eyes and made no move to remove his face from where it was buried in his folded knees.

“Let me introduce myself,” the man continued, “My name is Mark Lee, crown prince of the Isles of Rhyfel and the newly instated commander of the Imperial Guard.”

Donghyuck couldn’t stop himself from glancing up out of curiosity, face still carefully layered with hostility. Why was the prince himself paying a visit to Donghyuck?

Mark Lee was young, couldn’t have been much older than Donghyuck. His big doe eyes were shining with a sheltered innocence, and a jewel-encrusted crown sat primly upon his perfectly styled hair. His clothes were lined with a golden silk that screamed wealth and status.

“What in hell do you want from a lowly prisoner like myself?” Donghyuck seethed, his lips curled in a scowl. 

Mark stared at Donghyuck for a moment, caught by surprise. He had probably never been spoken to like that in his entire life. Like Donghyuck stated he had nothing to lose at this point, so all he felt was satisfaction as he took in the prince’s flabbergasted expression.

“I just— I heard from my guards about the fuss you put up.” Mark continued on, still looking just a little flustered. Donghyuck grinned inwardly at being able to rile up the prince in such a way. “I just wanted to see if you would rethink your choice. The gladiator system actually has a lot more benefits than you think.”

Donghyuck scoffed. The nerve of this guy! “How could me being thrown into a pit like an animal and being killed for sport benefit me in any way? Please, enlighten me.”

“Well for one thing, if you do well enough you get to keep your life,” the prince began.

“Oh, wow how kind of you,” Donghyuck spit out, “And how would that happen?”

“Most of being a gladiator involves training against your peers, and there’s no death while training. If you make it into the top twenty five percent you move onto the summer tournament. Those matches are to the death, but if you are one of the two finalists, you are appointed as a permanent member of the Imperial Guard. Not just the general ranks of the army, but my very own personal guard.”

Mark finished his speech with a proud smirk, as if he had just made a deal so irresistible that no one could possibly resist. Well, maybe that could be true for anyone that wasn’t Donghyuck. Donghyuck prided himself on being stubborn as the day was long.

“Well, that sounds like a lovely deal for anyone who gives a damn.” Donghyuck shot back. “I don’t know if you’re aware, Mark Lee, but I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be back in Condor with my family and friends but that’s impossible because the place is burned to the ground and everyone I know is captured or dead. I have absolutely nothing motivating me to play along with your little games, so kindly fuck off and let me live out my last hours in peace.”

Donghyuck was breathing heavily by the time he was finished. His whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, and the tell tale sting in his throat began, warning him of oncoming tears. He chased them away, however, because he was not going to let this mangy prince see him vulnerable like that.

Whereas before Mark had looked more shocked than anything, his features were now twisted in annoyance and frustration. Donghyuck thought that would be enough to finally chase him away, but instead the prince moved to take a seat on the guard’s chair right outside his cell. Donghyuck rolled his eyes. He really wished the prince would just give up already. Mark Lee was already doing too much, acting as if it was his obligation to change Donghyuck’s mind.

“Look,” the prince sighed, “I know how anxious you are to die. But when my guard informed me of your family situation, I wanted to help.”

Ha. Sure he did, Donghyuck thought. Probably believed he was some great savior, too. All of these rich scumbags did.

“I don’t think you realize how much freedom being in the Imperial Guard gives you. If you became a member and helped win the war against Valka, then we could save your family and bring you all home. You become a guard, and you’re essentially free.”

Donghyuck heaved a heavy sigh that became a sob somewhere along the way. He could have been free without their help if they had just left him alone. He might have still been stuck in Valka, sure maybe they would have eventually worked him to death eventually. But at the very least he wouldn’t be in prison and heading for execution, having not even committed a crime.

Yet there was some truth to Mark’s words, and it pained Donghyuck to admit it. The power and influence that being one of the Prince’s guardsmen was sure to be helpful in actually getting to see his family again. If they had left him in Valka, he’d be free but not a single step closer to finding the ones he loved.

Donghyuck was conflicted. He hid his face in his knees once more, shutting his eyes and letting the darkness absorb him as he stewed in his thoughts.

He barely registered when Mark said, “I’ll give you the night to think it over,” and finally left Donghyuck alone in his cell.

Donghyuck wasn’t even sure why he was considering this. When he was a child, he had promised himself that he’d never resort to violence in any way. The people of Condor believed strongly in peace and amity; they didn’t even have an official military. Donghyuck had been raised with the idea that every problem could be solved with some level-headed discussion. And while he had argued and shouted with his brothers and sisters more times than he can count, he never raised a hand against any of them.

Becoming a gladiator would be going against every single one of his morals and yet here he was, considering it. 

It was because at the end of the day, he’d do anything to see the people he loved even one more time. Even if it meant he had to kill.

By the time he drifted off to sleep that night, still curled uncomfortably into the corner with his knees to his chest, he had made his decision.   
  
  
  


Donghyuck was shaken awake the next morning when the guard from the night before rattled on the bars of his cell, shouting at him to get up. Donghyuck cracked open his eyes, squinting to get them accustomed to the light that streamed in the paneless windows along the length of the prison. He stood up and almost keeled over as the stiffness of his back made itself known. He was busy regretting falling asleep in such an unpleasant position when the guard cleared his throat.

“Well, have you made your decision?” He asked, sounding entirely uninterested.

Donghyuck took a deep breath as he prepared himself to say his next words. Once he did, there was absolutely no going back.

“Yes,” Donghyuck breathed, “I’ve made a choice. I won’t be dying today.”


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally here w chapter 2!! hope you all enjoy :D

“I’ve made a choice. I won’t be dying today.”

The guard blinked at Donghyuck, surprised. Donghyuck supposed he couldn’t blame him, going off how vehemently Donghyuck had refused the night before.

“Alright, then. Very well.” The guard removed a ring of keys from his belt, and began working to unlock the doors. “You’ve made the right choice, in my opinion.”

_ I don’t care what you think,  _ Donghyuck wanted to say, but decided it was in his best interest to keep his mouth shut for now.

He continued to stay silent as the guard entered his cell and dragged him rather roughly to his feet. He cuffed Donghyuck’s wrists once again and led him out while his guard buddy held the door open. Donghyuck almost came crashing down again as he began walking; his legs were still cramping something awful from his uncomfortable sleep. The guard made no move to slow down and accommodate him however, instead pushing him along even faster.

“Come on kid, we don’t have all day,” the man growled, and it took all of Donghyuck’s willpower to not deliver a swift kick to his shins.

His parade back through the streets was very similar to the previous evening, except this time Donghyuck was the sole prisoner, and the streets were considerably emptier. Only a handful of citizens were out and about at this early hour, which was something Donghyuck was incredibly grateful for. He could do without being ogled at like a monster for the second time in twenty four hours.

Donghyuck breathed in deep, letting the crisp morning air fill his lungs. The sky held not a single cloud— unlike yesterday— revealing a deep blue and a warm, orange sun on the horizon. It showed a new, more pleasant side to a kingdom that Donghyuck had somewhat come to hate.

He couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic as they walked down the narrow, cobblestone streets. The grey buildings that stood to either side were tall and narrow. They seemed to lean towards each other in the middle, trapping Donghyuck in like a caged bird.

To get his mind off his million and one worries, Donghyuck set his focus on keeping good enough pace with the guards. Every time they got a little ahead of him, the shackles around his wrists would rub against the skin there. It stung like crazy, and Donghyuck knew that his wrists would be completely red when the shackles were removed.

Donghyuck became so focused with this task that he didn’t even notice when they arrived at their destination. It wasn’t until the guards came to a halt in front of a massive stone gate that he became aware of the loud voices and general commotion that now surrounded them.

“This,” one guard said as he worked to unlock the gate, “is the gladiator camp, where you’ll be staying.”

Donghyuck glanced up from his wrists and absorbed the sights before him. 

More young men than he had ever seen in one place swarmed the grounds of the place. They all wore the same drab clothing in various shades of brown. Some wore the odd piece of leather armor, all in visibly poor shape.

They all seemed to be doing various activities. Some were pitted against each other in fenced off rings, taking part in what looked like practice sparring. Others watched on and cheered, and others still were off to the sides, fixing armor or patching wounds or simply just chatting between moments of rest.

Donghyuck had never seen a gladiator before. He had expected big, buff, and beastly men with more battle scars than could be counted, and a terrible thirst for blood. He had expected that he— a small and inexperienced boy from the countryside— would have been crushed into the ground the first step he took into their camp.

These gladiators, however, were not that at all.

They were young, all not much older or younger than Donghyuck himself. Some were certainly buff, but some were skinny, some were tall— and none of them looked quite as mean and bloodthirsty as Donghyuck had envisioned.

They were just regular kids like himself, Donghyuck realized. Most of them were probably taken just as unjustly as him. The thought made Donghyuck feel sick to his stomach.

“You’re just in luck kid, because the training season has just started. You’re not even that behind yet,” grumbled one of the guards.

“Training season?”

“Yeah, training season.” The guard looked incredibly disinterested with their conversation, instead focusing on picking food out of his teeth. “Every year in the Springtime, the gladiators get a few months to train in preparation for the summer tournament.”

The summer tournament. A bell went off in Donghyuck’s head as he recalled his conversation with Prince Mark the night before.

“The winners of the tournament join the Imperial Guard, right?”

The guard rolled his eyes and sneered with the corner of his mouth. “That’s right kid, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Only two out of the hundreds of gladiators here get that privilege, and I just don’t see a proper pipsqueak like yourself making it that far.”

Donghyuck breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth in an effort to not strangle the guard. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last before his calming techniques and sense of morality stopped working.

The guard didn’t seem to notice the way Donghyuck was fuming. He seemed to have found someone he had been looking for, because the next moment he was calling out loudly to someone.

“Hey, you there!” 

Donghyuck followed the direction in which the guard’s spit was flying. The man seemed to be calling to one of the fighters in the practice ring nearest to them. 

The fighter was tall and sturdily built, like he had been doing physical work all his life. His face was all sharp edges, like a statue carved from stone, and its features were set in deep concentration. He was handsome, but more in a way that sent a shiver of intimidation down Donghyuck’s back.

“Jeno, stop fighting and get over here!”

The fighter stopped abruptly. He dropped his sword and a playful grin overtook his face as he made his way over to Donghyuck and his two guard friends. Donghyuck was taken aback at how quickly the boy’s whole demeanor seemed to change in a split second, going from hard and focused to something incredibly soft and gentle.

“Just wanted to see if you remembered my name, Chief.” The smile on the boy’s— Jeno’s— face grew, causing his eyes to scrunch up in a way Donghyuck thought was very puppylike.

“Yeah, whatever.” The guard— who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there— began making quick work of removing Donghyuck’s shackles. When they were finally off, Donghyuck sighed with relief and rubbed at the irritated skin of his wrists. “This is a prisoner that came in last night. Captured from Valka. He’s joining as a gladiator so I’m putting you in charge of showing him around.”

Jeno nodded, taking a quick glance at Donghyuck.

“He’s a real brat, so be careful. That’s all, don’t get into any trouble.” With that the guard and his friend finally left, leaving Donghyuck alone with Jeno.

Jeno ran a comforting hand up and down Donghyuck’s arm and sent him a warm smile. Already, Donghyuck decided that he liked Jeno.

“They suck, don’t they?” Jeno said, chuckling.

Donghyuck let out a surprised snort. “Yeah, definitely.”

“I’m sorry about being stuck here by the way,” Jeno continued, looking truly sympathetic, “Even if they’re at war with Valka, it’s really the government that they’re fighting. I really don’t know why they blame innocent civilians as well.”

Donghyuck wanted to argue that  _ no, actually he wasn’t a citizen of Valka, not really  _ but he kept his mouth shut. He was sick of explaining his story what felt a dozen times over, only for it not to mean anything to anyone. He was tired, consumed by bone deep exhaustion, and he just did not have the energy to care what people thought of him any more. So instead he nodded at Jeno’s words, and offered him a half-hearted word of thanks.

Jeno patted Donghyuck on the shoulder. “Let me show you around, how about that?”

Donghyuck was immense being pulled along by Jeno’s steady hand on his shoulder.

“A lot of people do practice sparring out here,” Jeno explained, gesturing back to the various fenced in rings scattered about. “There are indoor rings as well, along with places to improve your strength individually.”

Donghyuck nodded. He’d developed some strength from his work in Valka, but probably not nearly enough to fight. He’d have a lot of ground to make up. Donghyuck tried to not let the doubt get to him— this was something he needed to do.

“This is the mess hall. We eat here, of course.” Jeno pointed out a large open area. Donghyuck wouldn’t have called it a  _ hall _ — the only indication that it was anything but a massive square of dirt was the wooden awning suspended over it. No tables or chairs or anything of the sort, but Donghyuck supposed that was too much to ask for lowly folk like themselves.

Their final stop on the tour were the barracks. They were the only part of the whole camp that was completely enclosed by a solid roof and four complete walls. There were no lights inside, and it smelled incredibly foul. The small bunks they were given looked ready to collapse, and were all crammed in next to each other, looking as if there was barely enough room to walk in between them. Donghyuck frowned at the absolutely unfazed look on Jeno’s face. He couldn’t believe that this kind of living was something he’d have to get used to.

“This is where we sleep,” Jeno said, “I sleep in another building, where you’ll be as well. Along with Renjun. Oh, you have to meet Renjun, you’ll love him!”

Donghyuck nodded distractedly. “You seem so nonchalant about this.”

Jeno looked at Donghyuck and cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The state of this place. It’s absolutely squalid.”

Jeno didn’t speak immediately, instead moving his gaze to the horizon. He gave the rest of the camp a good long stare, and with a sigh he turned back to Donghyuck. “Well, it’s nothing I’m not used to, I suppose. Not much else I know. Now, let’s go find Renjun, and we can head to dinner together. Shall we?”

Donghyuck blinked at the boy’s sudden change in demeanor. He rushed to catch up with Jeno who was walking towards the indoor training ring with purpose. Donghyuck wanted to ask Jeno more about what he meant by his words, but Donghyuck sensed that the other boy didn’t want to discuss it any further.

The indoor training ring, as with every other facility in the camp, wasn’t exactly “indoors”, as its name suggested. It was more of a large, open pavilion with half walls surrounding it. Many gladiators were perched on these half walls, either in a conversation or observing the others practicing.

There was an area for strength building, like Jeno had said, but there was also a sparring ring like the ones they had passed. The ring was where Jeno was headed currently, straight towards the pair fighting within it.

“Renjun, there’s someone I’d like you to meet!”

Oh, so this was the boy Jeno had been talking about. The one that Donghyuck was apparently going to love.

The boy in question, Renjun, stopped what he was doing. His partner immediately followed suit, and Renjun spared him a quick nod goodbye before making his way towards Jeno to meet him halfway.

“Well, who’s this then?” Renjun's voice was soft and quiet, but confident and commanding in a way that demanded the silence of others so that they could hear what he had to say.

“Renjun, this is…” Jeno trailed off, his eyes turning wide. “Oh my goodness, I just realized I never asked for your name!” Jeno looked positively horrified at the slip up, which made Donghyuck chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it. My name is Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck,” Renjun repeated. He smiled at Donghyuck and took a long look at him down the length of his nose, as if sizing him up. “I’m Renjun, but Jeno’s already established that.”

“Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck responded politely.

Renjun got straight down to the chase. “Donghyuck, have you ever fought before?”

Donghyuck shook his head quickly.

Renjun looked mildly surprised. “Well then, you’ll probably have to start at the basics. We can start on that tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Jeno agreed, “Besides, we’ve come to fetch you for dinner, Jun.”

Renjun grinned at Jeno, and Donghyuck couldn’t decipher what the look in Renjun’s eyes meant. “Well then, I guess we should get going. Jeno gets moody when he’s hungry.”

Jeno whined and pushed Renjun’s arm, and Donghyuck smiled at the domesticity the two shared. 

Dinner was a whole affair. Donghyuck sat with Jeno and Renjun in the very corner of the dining hall, and a little while later they were brought their food.

The food in question honestly made Donghyuck want to cry. He had gotten so used to his father’s freshly caught fish, expertly grown crops from the weekly market, and his mother’s heavenly home cooked meals. Even during his time serving rich Valkan lords he ate better than this. They had so much money that even the meals they served their lowly peasant workers were not half bad.

But this… this food was a crime to cooking as a whole. Donghyuck wasn’t even sure it was edible. He wasn’t sure what it was supposed to  _ be. _

Donghyuck poked around at the food, trying not to gag. Jeno and Renjun had already dug into their food. Donghyuck had no idea how they were doing it.

Jeno finally seemed to notice Donghyuck’s apathy towards his dish. He frowned, and said, “I know it’s not exactly the most appetizing meal there is, but strength here is important.” He swallowed his food, and nudged Donghyuck’s plate. “If you don’t eat, you won’t have the strength to succeed.”

Donghyuck nodded, his stomach rapidly filling with guilt. He probably looked like such a snob to Jeno and Renjun. The entire time he had been here he had only complained, when there was nothing he could even do about the situation. Jeno and Renjun had accepted it already— Donghyuck needed to as well.

He took a small bite of the food. Naturally it tasted just as foul as it looked, but Donghyuck forced it down without a face.

When the three of them finally finished their meals, Jeno and Renjun got up, wordlessly leading Donghyuck off and away from the greater population. Donghyuck had no idea where they were going or if it was even allowed. He hoped that Jeno and Renjun weren’t planning to both jump him and hide his body at the edge of camp where no one could find him.

They finally reached their destination, and Donghyuck gasped at the sight that met them.

They had crossed a large, open field to get here, and were now standing at a wooden fence that Donghyuck presumed marked the borders of the camp. The field dipped down pretty quickly on the other side, and below them a forest spread on for miles. A small creek that ran through their field ran over the side of the dropoff, creating a gently bubbling waterfall. The horizon seemed to stretch on forever in front of them, and the setting sun cast the most beautiful glow on the treetops.

Donghyuck hadn’t seen a sight this beautiful since he had left Condor.

“You like it here?” Jeno interrupted Donghyuck’s state of bliss as he took in all the sights in front of him. Donghyuck turned to see a proud smile on Jeno’s face. “Renjun and I found it a little after I got here. It’s been our secret getaway place for a while.”

“It’s beautiful,” Donghyuck marveled. Renjun and Jeno took a seat on a log that faced an ashy pit, which Donghyuck assumed was meant to hold a fire. Donghyuck rushed to follow.

He watched in silence as Renjun focused on lighting the fire. He observed the way the gentle breeze ruffled Renjun’s hair, or the way the dying sunlight reflected off Jeno’s hair, turning it gold.

“Are we allowed to be here?” Donghyuck finally asked.

Renjun shrugged. “It’s within camp, so I don’t see why not. Despite everything shitty about this place, we’re given relatively free reign as long as we stay inside the camp.”

“Besides,” Jeno added, “We’ve been going here for years and we’ve never even been noticed.”

Donghyuck’s ears perked up at that. “Years?”

Jeno nodded, suddenly looking grim. “I’ve been here since I was fifteen. Arrested for stealing food for my family. It’s been four years for me, but that’s nowhere as long as Renjun.”

“It’s been seven years for me,” Renjun said gruffly.

“ _ Seven years?! _ ” Donghyuck exclaimed.

“Yeah. Was arrested for attempting to sneak into the castle for the same reason as Jeno.”

Donghyuck felt a pit form in his stomach. “So you were just hungry, and you received a life sentence for it?”

Jeno nodded. “This city is no place for the destitute. They are not very forgiving here, and will not stop to listen to any excuse. You can’t even get away with a slap on the wrist; it’s either this, or an immediate death sentence.”

“What happened to your family?”

“I don’t know.” Jeno’s voice was strained. He was staring at the horizon as if it held all the answers. “I haven’t seen them since I was arrested. They could all be fine, or they could all have starved already.”

Donghyuck shook his head. “We’ll all get out of here. We’ll all join the Imperial Guard and see our families again. I promise.”

Jeno smiled at him, but it didn’t completely reach his eyes. “That’s a big promise you’re making there.”

Donghyuck was about to insist that it was all true what he was saying, but Renjun spoke first.

“Well,” he spoke, “What’s your story, Donghyuck? How’d you get here?”

Donghyuck swallowed heavily. He tried to ignore all of the imaginary scenarios his brain was making up that he could tell them instead; they deserved the truth. If they were going to all trust each other in this dreadful place, then they should know his full story, no matter how much it hurt.

“Well, I’m originally from the nation of Condor,” Donghyuck began.

Jeno’s eyes widened, and Renjun quirked an eyebrow at him in curiosity.

“You mean that tiny country, from all the old stories?”

“Yup.”

“I thought it was captured by Valka just recently. That’s what I had heard.”

Donghyuck’s throat tightened, and he nodded. “That is what happened. I was there, in my town’s marketplace when the streets were swarmed with Valkan soldiers. I was taken to Valka to do labor, which I did for about a year. Then I was arrested when soldiers of Rhyfel arrived in the city. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, they mistook me for a Valkan citizen, and here I am now.”

Jeno’s eyes were wide, and filled with sympathy. “That’s terrible,” he breathed.

“Do you know where your family is?” Renjun asked.

Donghyuck shrugged, trying to look indifferent. He focused his attention on drawing circles in the dirt with a stick so he wouldn’t start to cry. “Not sure. They could be dead. Could be in Valka working. I have no way of knowing.”

It was quiet for a long time as they all absorbed the stories that had been told. The air hung heavy with emotion, and the only sound to accompany Donghyuck’s racing thoughts were the cicadas buzzing all around them, and the gently trickling stream feeding into the waterfall.

“Well, weren’t we all dealt a good hand,” Renjun stated dryly after a while. For some reason this got Jeno giggling. Donghyuck joined soon after, and then they were all cackling uncontrollably at absolutely nothing.

The laughter died down, and Donghyuck smiled at the two boys in front of him. The mood was significantly better than before, and the now crackling fire in front of them only served to feed their lifted hearts.

“We’ll get out of this. Together,” Donghyuck repeated, more confidently than before. And this time, neither Jeno nor Renjun spoke a word of disagreement.   
  
  
  


Jeno yanked a sleepy Donghyuck out of bed first thing the next morning. He spoke with way too much energy for someone who was up at sunrise, rambling excitedly on about how Renjun was waiting for them and that he was going to begin teaching Donghyuck how to fight. Donghyuck followed along, grumbling and still half asleep.

They reached the fighting pavilion and sure enough Renjun was already there, perched on the outside wall and polishing a couple of swords. He took notice of the approaching pair when Jeno called up to him gleefully.

“You finally got sleepyhead up?” Renjun asked with a chuckle. Donghyuck groaned in response.

“What do you mean,  _ finally?” _ Donghyuck almost tripped as he attempted to hop over the wall. “The sun has barely risen!”

“Now that’s something you’ll have to get used to,” Jeno said, “we rise with the sun here.”

Renjun turned to Donghyuck and Jeno, where they now stood next to him in the Pavilion. He picked up one of the shorter swords from his collection and handed it to Donghyuck. Donghyuck was taken aback by the sudden weight, nearly dropping it with a dramatic shriek.

Renjun laughed. “If you’re reacting like that to one of the lightest swords here, then you’ve a long way to go!”

“I’m fine,” Donghyuck groaned, his face flush with embarrassment, “Just wasn’t ready, that’s all.”

Renjun’s eyes were curious now as he prepared his own blade, a longer and visibly heavier one with a rough leather handle. He was tossing the sword back and forth between his hands, as if getting used to its familiar weight.

“So you really have never held a sword before, have you?” He asked.

Donghyuck shook his head. “Nope. I’ve never held a weapon of any kind, actually. Well, unless you qualify a fishing pole or a kitchen knife as a type of weapon.”

“You’re serious?”

“Completely. It’s somewhat a part of Condor’s moral code. We lead with nonviolence, and believe that any problem can be solved without the need for bloodshed. I don’t think you could even buy a weapon in Condor.”

Jeno looked properly in awe by now. “That’s crazy, but amazing at the same time. I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“It certainly did. There’s a reason why we went undisturbed for so long. It might not work for every nation, but it’s difficult not to have respect for the way of life.”

Renjun and Jeno nodded. No one wanted to say the inevitable— _that’s_ _with the exception of one nation of course_ — so they instead focused back on the task at hand.

“Alright Donghyuck, you stand here.” Renjun led him to one end of the ring, and pointed to where his feet needed to be. “Keep your stance nice and wide. Balance is very important.”

Donghyuck nodded. After a few more adjustments on the placement of Donghyuck’s feet and hands on the hilt, Renjun was taking his place with his sword held firmly in both hands.

“Now, learning how to hold it properly is a large part of it. You can’t allow the sword to feel awkward or topheavy, or else your balance will be completely thrown and it’ll slow you down.”

Donghyuck’s head spun with all of the new information as he tried to keep up with Renjun’s instructions. Despite him doing everything Renjun said, the sword felt weird and weighty in Donghyuck’s hands. Every step he took was a beat off from Renjun’s. He felt like he was moving through waist deep water, and the sword felt like it weighed as much as him. Donghyuck reckoned that if this was a real fight, he would have been finished seconds in.

“With sword fighting, your mind needs to be as sharp as your movement,” Renjun continued, “or else you’ll be caught by surprise. You need to be constantly anticipating your opponent’s next move, where their weak spots are, and what  _ your  _ next move will be.” Renjun demonstrated by passing a strike at Donghyuck’s left side. Luckily the blade was still wrapped in a sheath to prevent injury, so it only served to knock the wind out of Donghyuck.

Renjun waited patiently as Donghyuck wheezed and tried to catch his breath. How in the name of all things good was Donghyuck supposed to keep all of those factors in mind while also attempting to control an unwieldy blade? It sounded near impossible to him, and he was just about ready to give up and accept his impending death.

Renjun patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t worry. No skill comes easily, certainly not a highly dangerous sport such as this. You’ll have plenty of time to practice, and I’ll work with you as long as you need. It’s all practice for me, anyways.”

Another rush of gratitude overtook Donghyuck at Renjun’s words. He forced himself back upright and gripped his sword in front of him once again. If Renjun was going to put forth the effort for him, then he should do the same.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”   
  
  
  


True to his word, Donghyuck stayed and practiced with Renjun throughout the rest of the morning, only taking a break when Jeno brought them leftovers from breakfast. As time passed, other trainees slowly filtered into the pavilion. Some began practicing, but many stopped to observe what the new kid had to offer.

Donghyuck did his best to ignore the watchful eyes. The progress he was making was slow but steady, and Renjun’s patient efforts had proven to be anything but fruitless. With every swing and block Donghyuck became more and more confident, and while his movements were still pretty slow and clumsy compared to Renjun’s featherlight steps, he was managing to get in more and more strikes.

Donghyuck’s muscles were beginning to burn, and sweat was rolling down his face at a rapid rate, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this alive. He couldn’t help but remember the fishing competitions he used to have with his friends back in Condor. They would go out on the water in Donghyuck’s long, wooden sea kayak and paddle out to the shallow lagoon in which they spent most of their time. No one had known about that secret spot except for the four of them, and they had gone spear fishing there, competing to see who could catch the most fish before the sun began to set. They would return home in the evening, sweaty and aching, with baskets full of fish for their families.

Donghyuck had not been aware of how much he missed that— the adrenaline pumping through his veins, working his muscles as far as they could go, then sinking into bed at night with the memories of a day well spent.

He tried not to think about further down the road, where this might lead to if he improved enough to make it into the summer tournament. If he just didn’t think about the bloodshed that was surely to come, then Donghyuck might just be able to enjoy it here. Just a little. For the feeling of playful competition was one that Donghyuck had come to sorely miss, and it felt good.

He was so pinpoint focused on the motion of Renjun’s blade in conjunction with his that he didn’t even notice at first when a hush fell over the crowd of onlookers, and bewildered whispers began filling the silence.

_ “Is that _ —  _ Is that the prince?!”  _ said a boy at the front in a dramatic stage whisper.

That’s what finally caught Donghyuck’s attention, and he grinded to a halt. He barely registered when Renjun’s sword bounced off his arm, and the noise surprise that came from the other boy. The Prince couldn’t be here,  _ could he? _

Donghyuck’s eyes swivelled around, desperately searching for the source of the whispering. When they finally landed on the last person he wanted to see, a rotten taste formed in Donghyuck’s mouth.

Sure enough, Prince Mark was strutting towards the ring, flanked by two Imperial Guards and looking just as haughty and self important as Donghyuck had come to know. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, eyes wide and confused as the prince made his way in like he belonged there. Which, Donghyuck supposed, he did. He was the nation’s Crown Prince; he could go absolutely anywhere he pleased, whenever he pleased.

And as much as it made Donghyuck’s blood boil, these people were all training to become members of this spoiled little prince’s personal guard. Naturally the boy would want to come and observe their progress. But it seemed that an appearance like this was unusual, if the others’ reactions was anything to go by.

Prince Mark finally made it to an empty spot on the half-wall. It had originally been occupied by a group of boys, but they had silently fled the moment they saw the prince coming. Everyone had their eyes focused on the prince with bated breaths, as if waiting for him to say something.

Mark finally broke the heavy silence. He looked Donghyuck dead in the eye, and with a tiny smirk, gestured to his and Renjun’s fallen swords. “Well,” Mark spoke, “Don’t let me interrupt you. Please, return to your practice.”

The silence was deafening now, even the excited whispers having died down with Mark’s words. Donghyuck stared at Renjun, bewildered. The other boy was already staring back, eyes wide.

Donghyuck finally took the initiative, shaking out his limbs and lifting his sword once again. “You ready?” he murmured to Renjun, who hesitantly nodded, still looking incredibly confused as he readied his own sword.

Donghyuck hated how nervous he felt all of a sudden. The clammy state of his palms and the tremor his legs felt like a plague, and Donghyuck resented that Prince Mark was the one responsible.

He shook out his limbs one last time in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the nerves. Renjun nodded at him in some unspoken agreement, and swung his sword around, making the first strike of the new match.

Maybe it was the sudden adrenaline running through his veins, or just the incessant need to prove himself to this prince for whatever reason, but Donghyuck found him pushing forward on Renjun for the first time that day. Something burned within him as he pushed and pushed, making swing after swing. Renjun, as usual, was working hard to parry his strikes and make some moves of his own, but he was beginning to look worn down.

_ Swish. Clang.  _ A shuffle of feet, a loud exhale. No sounds except the meeting of blades, and the ever present cicadas buzzing from the bushes. Donghyuck almost wondered if the others could hear his heart as well, where it was caught in his throat and beating as loud as a drum.

Donghyuck sent a quick strike to Renjun’s side. The boy stumbled, and his grip on his weapon loosened just a little. Donghyuck was getting close.

Donghyuck made the final strike, sending Renjun’s sword clattering to the ground. He lifted the tip of his sword to Renjun’s bare neck, and Renjun stared at it with wide eyes. 

He was frozen, Donghyuck was frozen, everyone in the pavilion didn’t move a muscle as the two fighters gasped for air.

The air finally cleared when Renjun huffed a laugh and reached up to carefully push Donghyuck’s blade away, his eyes sparkling. 

“Impressive, rookie. You learn fast.” Renjun picked up his sword from the ground and moved to shake Donghyuck’s hand.

“I agree,” came another voice.

All heads shot back around to Prince Mark. His arms were crossed, and the tiny smirk hadn’t left his face. He got up from his seat and gave a small nod to Donghyuck, before turning to leave. 

“Glad to see that training is going well,” he spoke over his shoulder, “keep up the good work.” And with that he was gone, his guards following close behind.

The pavilion exploded with clamoring voices immediately following Prince Mark’s departure. Donghyuck caught the eye of the boy from the front who had noted the prince’s arrival. When the boy noticed Donghyuck was looking, he narrowed his eyes before turning away coldly.

Something had changed in the atmosphere, and it made Donghyuck feel sick to his stomach. All he could think of doing was finding somewhere far away from everyone else, and maybe taking a nap. The adrenaline of the fight had since worn off, and now he just felt drained.

“Come on, let’s go,” he mumbled to Jeno and Renjun. The two thankfully followed, Jeno patting him reassuringly on the back and Renjun grabbing him by one arm.

“You did great today, I’m truly impressed.”

Donghyuck sighed, “Thank you.” The praise lifted his spirits a little, but his stomach still stirred at the thought of all the trainees that surely had placed a mark on his head now.

Leave it up to the prince to ruin Donghyuck’s day yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter + curiouscat: princehuangss


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at last, another chapter is here! i had a lot of fun writing this chapter. also there might not be AS much markhyuck in the first arc of this story, but dw it is coming. it will be great. thank you sm to everyone reading!!

Donghyuck didn’t encounter Mark Lee again for a few weeks, much to his relief. He was almost able to forget about everything and everyone around him as he learned the ropes of hand-to-hand combat, throwing himself into early morning workouts with Jeno and afternoon spars with Renjun. 

Donghyuck rose with the sun now and didn’t put down his weapons until the sun set again. He discovered that losing himself to the clang of metal on metal and the burn in his muscles was almost as addictive as the fatal flowers that grew in the foothills of Northern Condor.

Donghyuck tried to avoid people that weren’t his new friends at all costs. He hated the way that eyes had been following him for days after the encounter with Prince Mark. The event had been branded on him as if with a glowing rod, and Donghyuck absolutely detested it.

Fortunately for him, the hype died down as the days went by and Donghyuck showed no visible signs of indulging peoples’ thirst for drama. A week and then two went by, and Donghyuck was almost able to blend back into the shadows, as if nothing had ever happened.

Key word here being _almost._

“Jeno, what are you doing?” Donghyuck blurted out one morning at breakfast.

It was only the two of them eating together that morning, tucked away at the far corner of the dining hall— Renjun was on cooking crew duty this week. Donghyuck was currently observing with utmost confusion as Jeno snuck handfuls of food into his knapsack. 

When Donghyuck finally pointed it out, Jeno’s head shot up. His eyes were wide as if he had been caught in a crime, and Donghyuck snorted.

“Oh, umm—” Jeno blushed— “I was just going to take some of this back for uhh— for Chip.”

Donghyuck tilted his head in confusion. “Chip?”

“Chip is a stray cat. She lives somewhere around Camp and… I feed her sometimes,” Jeno explained. His face flushed an even deeper red.

Donghyuck supposed he could understand why Jeno would keep something like that a secret. It wasn’t exactly the most intimidating thing in the world for a gladiator to take care of a tiny stray cat. It made Donghyuck smile.

“Will I get to meet her?” He asked Jeno.

Jeno’s eyes crinkled with the force of his smile, “Sure, if you’d like!”

Donghyuck was about to ask Jeno when they’d be able to see the cat and give her the smuggled food when the sound of footfalls came to a halt in front of them, and a shadow was suddenly cast across their dishes.

Jeno glanced up at the newcomer, and his cheerful expression was shadowed by something like wariness. “Yangyang, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

It was with a startle that Donghyuck realized the pin-drop silence that had suddenly blanketed the dining hall.

Donghyuck’s eyes followed Jeno’s to the person now standing above them. He was met with a boy around their age. He would have looked quite approachable with his elvish features and soft brown locks, if it hadn’t been for the way his lips were curled in an unpleasant scowl.

“I saw your little show with the prince, you know,” Yangyang directed at Donghyuck, ignoring Jeno entirely, “and I want you to know that I see right through you.”

Jeno’s expression soured, and he looked like he wanted to pick a fight, but for some reason he stayed silent. Yangyang continued, “Whether or not you possess natural ability, you’re still inexperienced. You’re new here so I’ll let you off with warning; make a show of yourself, and you’ll make enemies faster than you can swing a sword.”

From the way the boy spoke, and the way that the dining space had gone completely silent at their conversion, Donghyuck sensed that this Yangyang person wasn’t someone to be messed with. Yet, Donghyuck still found himself biting back, recklessly.

“Well you certainly think highly of yourself, don’t you,” Donghyuck spoke coolly. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’ve never been one to care much for social hierarchies. Maybe you’d do better to find other new blood to try and scare off.”

Donghyuck can tell that his words caught everyone by surprise. The people eavesdropping erupted into shocked whispers, and Yangyang’s face contorted with rage. Donghyuck grinned, satisfied.

“You’re going to regret that attitude, rookie,” Yangyang growled. He jerked his head towards the pavilion, eyes never leaving Donghyuck’s. “Well, if you’re so sure of yourself, then I propose a duel. Today, at sunset. Then we can see if your bark comes with a bite.”

Donghyuck and Yangyang’s eyes were locked for a few more moments, and Donghyuck matched Yangyang’s scowl with his own bitter expression. It felt like the world was suspended, as if time itself had paused to see the outcome of their interaction.

The moment finally broke when Yangyang turned and strutted away from them, slowly with his head held high. The watching eyes from all around the dining hall bounced back and forth between him and Donghyuck, as if unsure of where they should look.

Donghyuck turned back to Jeno, and he was surprised by the wide-eyed look his friend was sporting, matching the rest of the hall. 

“What?” Donghyuck questioned, defensive.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” Jeno shook his head, voice weary, “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

*

Much to Donghyuck’s satisfaction, he was able to meet Chip after breakfast.

As soon as they were dismissed Jeno led Donghyuck by the hand back to their barracks, and around back to the side facing the fields surrounding Camp. From this side they were invisible to Camp’s general population, a perfect place to feed a secret kitten.

Jeno crouched in the tall grass against the wall of the barracks and began moving around on his haunches. Donghyuck mirrored his stance and watched as Jeno held his hand outstretched with some breakfast meat on it, gently whispering calls to the cat.

After a minute, Donghyuck picked up the telltale swish of a small body moving through the tall grass. Then, a small, furry head popped into view, followed closely by a little body and skinny tail.

Donghyuck chuckled quietly as Chip snuck forward cautiously, her nose twitching as she sniffed the food being offered to her. Deeming it safe to eat, she snatched the meat from Jeno’s palm, promptly gobbling it up before looking back to Jeno expectantly. The small feline was grey with dark stripes and a soft, white belly. She was missing a little piece of one ear, and Donghyuck assumed that was how she earned her name.

Donghyuck marveled at the way Jeno was turned to putty in the presence of Chip. His face was stretched in a dopey smile as he fished the food out of his sack, and Donghyuck found it easy to forget about his impending duel, if only for a moment.

“Would you like to feed her?” Jeno asked, shaking Donghyuck from his thoughts. Donghyuck nodded quickly, and Jeno handed him a leftover pork roll.

Donghyuck began breaking it into bite-sized pieces. Chip caught on right away, bounding over to Donghyuck and sniffing at the roll curiously. Donghyuck held out a little piece for her to take and he couldn’t stifle the giggle that emerged from him when a little pink nose tickled his hand and tiny teeth closed around the bread.

He took the opportunity to reach a hand out and pet Chip’s head as she ate. He was pleased when she showed no signs of acknowledgement, only working on her food as Donghyuck stroked her fuzzy little head.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Jeno murmured, watching Chip eat with a loving gaze. Donghyuck found himself nodding in agreement. Every stroke of the soft fur was almost therapeutic— Donghyuck would rather sit back here with Chip’s warm weight in his lap than go back to training. 

The stash of food was gone all too fast, and before Donghyuck knew it, Jeno was giving Chip one last belly rub before she was leaping up and bounding back into the grass. Donghyuck tried to ignore the despair he felt as he watched the grass sway a little with her leaving. 

“It’ll be okay,” Jeno murmured, and Donghyuck looked up to see the boy’s eyes already on him. He must have noted the mopey look in Donghyuck’s eyes. “She’ll be back in a couple of days looking for more food, the greedy little thing.”

Despite his words, anyone could tell just by looking at Jeno that he would gladly feed that cat until she burst.

Donghyuck shifted back on his heels and slowly got to his feet. “Want to go find Renjun? Get some practice in before tonight?”

Jeno’s eyes lit up at the mention of the smaller boy. “That sounds perfect.”

*

Even though they had left him at the kitchens this morning, Jeno led them straight to the Pavilion. In the relatively short time Donghyuck had known Jeno and Renjun, he had already managed to pick up on the almost radar-like way in which they always knew where the other was. Jeno ran on instinct alone as he pulled Donghyuck through Camp by the arm.

Sure enough, they were able to locate Renjun right away, at his favorite spot in Camp.

They heard him before they saw him. As Donghyuck and Jeno climbed the small incline on which the Pavilion sat, they could already hear the clash of blades between shuffling feet and heavy breathing, and the occasional bark of advice in Renjun’s calm and melodic voice.

When the boy finally came into view, he was predictably sparring with his bunkmate, Seungmin. He was one of the few people in Camp who could match Renjun’s competitive spirit and undying energy.

“Don’t leave your sides vulnerable like that, Seungmin!” Renjun reprimanded as he let the broad side of his blade bounce off Seungmin’s waist. Renjun never held back on his opponents, but he was also fair. Renjun never moved to maim, because as fierce and unrelenting he was, he also played by the rules. Thus, Seungmin’s breath was knocked out of him, effectively immobilizing him for a brief second, but he was able to regain his ground within a moment or two.

Donghyuck was always fascinated when he watched Renjun spar. If Donghyuck ever somehow managed to make it to the Summer Tournament, he would be a lost cause should he be matched up against Renjun.

After pausing to watch Renjun and Seungmin for a few moments, Jeno and Donghyuck made their way to the other end of the pit, their own practice blades in hand. They took their stances, circling each other carefully for a few moments, before Jeno announced their start.

Fighting Jeno was completely different to Renjun. He was a gentle spirit trapped in the body of a tiger; with his raw strength and years of experience, he could overtake any opponent in the blink of an eye. Yet he always seemed to be holding back at least a fraction of his power, deathly afraid of accidentally hurting his opponent.

Donghyuck and Jeno were neck and neck for many long minutes. Donghyuck was able to match Jeno’s years of experience with his sheer undying determination. It made them the perfect match for each other; Donghyuck always found himself heaving for air and soaked with sweat by the time his matches with Jeno finally ended.

Donghyuck finally sent Jeno’s sword skittering across the floor somewhere around the sixteen-minute mark. The minute he let his own sword fall to his side, he could feel the burning ache move up his arms as the energy of the battle wore off.

Jeno smiled up at him from where he had been sent sprawling across the floor. “Great match as usual, Donghyuck,” he huffed, “I’m sure you’ll be able to take on Yangyang no problem.”

“What’s this about Yangyang?”

Donghyuck whipped his head around to see Renjun leaning against the railing of the pit, watching them with interest. Seungmin was long gone— he and Renjun must have finished up during Jeno and Donghyuck’s match. 

“Oh goodness, have we got a lot to fill you on,” Jeno sighed. He rose from the dusty floor of the pit and brushed himself off, “You missed a lot at breakfast.”

“Well then, fill me in!” Renjun strode over to the railing, leaning over it to snatch up a sack on the other side. “How about over lunch? I brought leftovers!”

*

“Liu Yangyang came up to you guys just out of the blue?!”

Renjun’s eyes bugged out, and crumbs of bread and jam fell from his mouth.

Jeno nodded. “He watched your spar with Donghyuck. The one with Prince Mark in attendance.”

“Ahh, that makes sense,” Renjun muttered, “Now that I think about it— I do recall him sitting front row, and he did not look happy at all afterwards.”

Donghyuck startled. Yangyang had been front row? He rummaged through the memories of that day, trying to recall the tiny details, the faces of their spectators. He couldn’t recall anyone standing out—

Then, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head, it dawned on him. Donghyuck let out a gasp.

“I remember him!” he exclaimed, “He did look really pissed at the end!”

“I mean, I understand, knowing Yangyang,” Jeno said, “You established yourself as a threat in his eyes that day.”

Donghyuck stabbed a slab of unpleasantly warm roast beef with his fork, frustrated. “Alright, but I don’t understand _why_ — who let him think he was the reigning king around here?”

Renjun shrugged. “I suppose it just happened with time. He _is_ the one who’s been here the longest after all.”

“But he’s so young!”

“He is.” Renjun’s face was grim. “He’s been here since he was thirteen, long before Jeno and I. He was an orphan, and the Royal Family offered him a position working in the kitchens until he could fend for himself. In the end he still couldn’t find any opportunities in Turrim, because the world is just cruel that way. He ended up back here as a gladiator.”

A wave of thoughts and emotions swept over Donghyuck, the first being an ugly sort of confusion. His experience with the Royalty here had been anything but pleasant, so to hear that they had done something somewhat _selfless_ for Yangyang just… didn’t seem right.

He was then hit with a sort of restless, hollow feeling. Donghyuck hated to admit when he was wrong, when he had misjudged a person or situation— in the short time he had known him, he had already decided that Yangyang was a foul character. To hear his story now— he wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

Silence fell upon the group for the rest of lunch. Donghyuck attempted to ignore the way the high noon sun sent sweat pouring down his back, or the way the thoughts of his upcoming battle with Yangyang hung over his head like a storm cloud, stubborn and unmoving.

Their meal was unofficially brought to an end when Renjun stood up and brushed the crumbs off his pants, announcing that he was needed up front to show someone new around Camp.

“Good luck,” Renjun told Donghyuck as he began to step away, “Knowing Yangyang and knowing you, I’m sure you’ll be a great match for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Renjun shrugged. “You two are much more similar than you think. Just know this, though; Yangyang may not be quite as dangerous as he likes to act, but that doesn’t mean I would suggest putting yourself on his radar. I’m sure you’ve already learned that this is not the place to make enemies— especially not with someone who knows his way around like Yangyang.”

Renjun had walked away before Donghyuck could even get his lips to form a response. He stared quizzically after Renjun— the boy had left Donghyuck with more questions than answers, but something about the words sent a wave of wariness and uncertainty down his spine.

Donghyuck turned to see his confusion reflected in Jeno’s eyes. When Jeno finally noticed Donghyuck looking, he schooled his expression into his characteristic crescent eyed grin. He pulled himself to his feet as well and held his hand out for Donghyuck to take.

“Let’s get a little bit more practice in, yeah? Then we’ll rest for a bit. You need to be prepared all you can for tonight.”

*

The rest of the afternoon moved along both too quickly and not quick enough.

Donghyuck would have been perfectly happy to practice without pause for the remainder of the time, in any attempt to distract himself from the less than desirable situation he had gotten himself into. Jeno, however, would not let that slide. He insisted that Donghyuck get some rest in order to be in top shape.

Rest was the opposite of what Donghyuck wanted, because now he was trapped with his thoughts, his own terrible clouds of anxiety swamping his brain, but there was nothing he could say or do to change Jeno’s mind. So here he was.

“Jeno, are you sure we can’t do at least one more warm-up?” Donghyuck groaned.

Jeno snorted. “Calm down, will you? Yangyang’s not that scary, I promise.”

Donghyuck spluttered indignantly. “I know that,” he exclaimed, “I met him this morning!”

“Your answer is no, no more warm-ups. Sit still for a few more minutes, Yangyang should be here momentarily.”

Donghyuck let out a huff of breath but said no more. He rested his head on his folded knees and began to draw little circles in the dirt. He vaguely registered Jeno still speaking to him, probably more of his supportive pep talk, but Donghyuck wasn’t listening. He was too busy thinking of the first time he had ever helped his father out at the Sunday Market. Donghyuck had been so full of anxious energy that Yerim, who had been keeping him company, had gotten frustrated and forced him race her along the coast until they had both been gasping for air.

Donghyuck recalls with a snort that it had been efficient in getting him to calm down, but Donghyuck’s father had certainly not been happy when Donghyuck showed up to the Sunday market sweaty and exhausted.

The thought of Yerim and the fresh, salty air of the Condorian coast made his chest ache. He added another aggressive circle in the dirt.

“Well, are you going to sit there all day like a coward,” came suddenly a voice from above, “or are you going to stand up and fight me?”

Donghyuck’s eyes shot up from where they had been focused on the dirt and found him face to face with Yangyang.

Yangyang’s brows were furrowed in the permanent look of disgust he always sported. He was dressed in a full set of the camp’s leather armor, and a dulled practice blade sat in the scabbard on his hip. Donghyuck had no doubt that Yangyang would gladly run him through with a proper blade in the blink of an eye, but even Yangyang had to adhere to the Gladiator Code of Conduct. The thought satisfied something in Donghyuck.

How much trouble would Donghyuck get himself in, if getting under Yangyang’s skin was this much fun?

“Me? A coward? Never,” Donghyuck chuckled, as he bounced to his feet with as much grace as he could muster.

Yangyang pushed into the ring and strode to the middle with the arrogance of Rhyfel’s prince himself. He began warming up as Donghyuck entered the ring, swinging his blade in neat circles in an obvious show of experience.

“I fear that word has gotten out about our spar—” Yangyang gestured to the rapidly forming crowd in the Pavilion— “I hope you don’t mind.”

Donghyuck grinded his teeth together. Yangyang’s intentions were clear, if his snide smirk was anything to go by; he was trying to get under Donghyuck’s skin.

“Enough talk, Yangyang, or are you trying to stall?” Donghyuck swung his sword once, twice, before taking his position. He glanced over towards their moderator, a very nervous looking Jeno, before looking back. The arena was so silent that a mouse could probably be heard beneath the floorboards, everyone sitting with bated breath. The feeling of all those eyes on him was uncomfortable, so he focused all his attention on Yangyang’s measured breaths as Jeno counted down.

“5… 4…”

Donghyuck readjusted his grip, trying to will away the tremors. He was not nervous.

“3… 2...”

Donghyuck didn’t even hear Jeno reach one before Yangyang was charging with a war-like shout.

“Fuck!” Donghyuck exclaimed, whipping his sword up to meet Yangyang’s. They clashed together with a mighty clang and the silence of the arena was lost, the crowd in an uproar.

Yangyang swung again a bit lower, and Donghyuck just managed to meet him once again.

“Did I surprise you, sunshine?” Yangyang huffed, his smirk having returned.

Donghyuck sent a strike of his own this time, and Yangyang’s blade stopped him halfway. “You could only wish, Liu.”

Donghyuck had been slightly nervous when Yangyang had first arrived fully armed, and he himself had come in nothing but his tunic and trousers. After the first many minutes of their spar, however, Donghyuck came to the conclusion that it would not be an issue.

Yangyang’s fighting style was pleasantly similar to his own, he had found. It was less offensive; like Donghyuck, Yangyang preferred to stay on the defensive for the a good part of the match, maintaining stamina and watching, waiting until his opponent tired out before going in for the fatal strike. It was a mind game, one of patience and a careful eye. Donghyuck did not miss the way Yangyang’s eyes followed his every footstep, his every swing, because he was doing the exact same in return.

It was around the 18th minute mark when Donghyuck really began feeling the burn in his limbs. He suddenly became aware of the sweat pouring down his face, and each swing of his sword seemed slower and more difficult, as if he was attempting to swing it through molasses.

He glanced over to Yangyang, and was glad to see that his opponent was not faring much better. Yangyang’s breathing was noticeably heavier, and Donghyuck could just catch the beads of sweat lining the boy’s forehead. Yangyang’s eyebrows were also furrowed, as if he was and confused as to how Donghyuck had made it this long.

Admittedly, Donghyuck was surprised as well, both by himself and Yangyang. He hadn’t been in a spar this long his entire time here.

Even the crowd seemed surprised; Donghyuck had expected most of them to get bored by now, but they seemed to be even more excited than at the beginning. It was hard to keep track, but more had definitely shown up as well as the fight went on.

In a split second, Yangyang took advantage of Donghyuck’s brief distraction, and slipped his sword past Donghyuck’s defenses. The broad side bounced off his ribs and Donghyuck let out a growl of pain but didn’t let himself pause to catch his breath. Stopping for even a moment would give Yangyang the opening to hit him with another strike, and the match would undoubtedly be over.

When Yangyang swung again, Donghyuck’s sword stopped him this time. Yangyang shouted in frustration and stepped back to calculate his next moves.

“You think you’re so great, don’t you?” Yangyang growled at Donghyuck, somehow sending an even more aggressive swing at Donghyuck’s side despite being plagued by exhaustion. “Your first day at Camp and you befriend my biggest threat. Now, only a couple weeks in and you’re able to hold _me_ for this long?”

“Your biggest threat— who, _Renjun?_ ”

“I’m not letting you surpass me Lee, you’re _not taking this away from me._ I’ve been here too goddamn long, and just when I’ve managed to claw myself to the top, _you_ show up—”

Donghyuck’s mind was spinning, and before he even knew what was happening, Yangyang was letting out one last angry cry and Donghyuck’s sword was sent spinning across the dirt.

Clouds of dust billowed around them. Donghyuck blinked down the length of Yangyang’s blade that was now pointed directly between his eyes.

It was silent for many moments. The members of the crowd were waiting, as if unsure whether to cheer or not. Yangyang’s sword stayed pointed at Donghyuck’s face, the boy heaving, and eyes filled with rage. When at last his arm began to tremble from the exertion, he lowered his weapon.

Donghyuck hesitated, before bowing his head in a quick, jerky motion. “Good fight, Liu,” he spoke evenly, before turning to pick up his sword. Without looking back he strode towards Jeno.

Just as he was heading to exit the Pavilion, Jeno stumbling to catch up to him, the crowd of onlookers broke into excited whispers. They all pointed at him and watched him leave with wide eyes, and for a moment Donghyuck wished he could be wearing a pair of blinders like the ones his father put on the horses that pulled their wagon through town.

“How did you do that?” Jeno whispered, eyes as wide as the crowds’.

“What do you mean? I lost.”

Jeno shook his head. “No one was expecting you to win. No one has even held Yangyang for that long before.”

Donghyuck felt an unsettling gnawing in the bottom of his stomach. He didn’t like to think about what this achievement might bring him in the days to come. “How does this keep happening to me, Jeno?” he whispered, his arms and legs and head aching with exhaustion.

Jeno’s eyes sparkled with concern. He looked as if he had come to some sort of conclusion that he did not like. “Let’s just get some rest, eh?” he murmured. “You’ve had a long day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/princehuangss) | [My CuriousCat](curiouscat.qa/princehuangss) ♡


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone supporting this fic!! i hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Hot. The day was unbearably hot.

That was one aspect of life in Turrim that Donghyuck was still becoming accustomed to; the sweltering humidity that came with the changing seasons. As Spring moved along slowly and steadily, so did the weather. The soggy, overcast months of March and April slowly morphed into the hot, humid, and bug-infested months of May and June. It was certainly nothing like the springs and summers in Condor, where the majority of the heat was bridled by the brisk wind blowing off the ocean.

The changing of weather also brought with it an underlying sense of restlessness that seemed to spread and grow throughout the camp, creeping like the tendrils of the invasive weeds that used to terrorize Donghyuck’s mother’s vegetable garden.

The other gladiators-in-training could sense the slow approach of the Summer Tournament; an event that was both dreaded and anticipated by its prospective participants. On the one hand it offered a possibility of escape— on the other, certain death. That, or you didn’t make the cut at all. Success, death, or another year of waiting and training and hoping that the next year will be your lucky year.

It all rested on the Training Evaluations. Which were in exactly three weeks’ time.

In a little over _two_ weeks, however, were—

“ _Sponsor announcements?_ What the hell are those?!” Donghyuck cried. He stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, letting his face fall into a pout. Renjun laughed and told him he looked like a baby with his cheeks all puffed out like that.

Donghyuck was too busy getting worked up again about _stupid sponsors_ to pay any mind to Renjun. Every day it felt like he was learning some new, complicated little detail to this cruel system that played with his fate for fun.

“Sponsors,” Jeno answered, “are basically the super-rich elites of Turrim, and technically all of Rhyfel. Lords, wealthy merchant families, government officials that are dedicated to the _ancient sport of gladiator fighting_ —” Jeno paused to wave his hands around in mock grandeur— “so much so that they invest money into it, and the turnout of the Summer Tournament.”

“So, they gamble on us.”

“Sort of?” Jeno shrugged. “They begin showing up around Camp, watching as we prepare for Evaluations. Pick the one prospect who they think has the best chance of making it through the Tournament, and they sponsor them.”

“Have you guys ever been sponsored before?” Donghyuck asked.

“Renjun was, last year by some minor lord from the North. Jun obviously didn’t make it past Evals, though, as you can see by his presence here today.”

Donghyuck snorted when Renjun let out an indignant squeak and shoved Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno laughed it off, but Donghyuck could tell by the way he didn’t let Renjun pull away that Jeno was more thankful for Renjun’s prior year failure than he let on.

“Last year, we were just on the cusp of the top 25 percent,” Renjun added, “Although, now that last year’s 25 percent are all— well— _gone,_ I’d guess that this year is finally our year.”

Donghyuck grimaced. “I guess so,” he agreed, and the trio fell into a suffocating silence.

Donghyuck had only been here a month or so, and even he was filled with the conflicted feelings that permeated every boundary of Camp. He could only imagine being someone like Renjun or Jeno, who had lived and trained here for years, unsure of which path was better; staying here in waiting, alive, or making it to the top, with the possibility of death. It sounded exhausting to say the least.

Donghyuck sensed that the mood was being ruined, so he shifted the conversation away from their impending doom.

“So, what’s the deal with the Prince? And this war?”

Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You really don’t know about the war?”

“Really,” Donghyuck shrugged, “I’ve been living in servitude under Valkan elites for the past year. They didn’t exactly keep me up to date on the world’s current events.”

Renjun cringed, as if he’d forgotten about Donghyuck’s backstory. “Well,” he began, “As you know, Valka is under a strict dictatorship right now. The country has been expanding in size exponentially, taking over surrounding small countries with barely any effort. The Isles of Rhyfel have been outwardly opposing them since the beginning, and it was really only small naval battles here and there, until they invaded Condor. That was kind of the last straw.”

Donghyuck felt queasy. “So, after that it became all-out war?”

“Pretty much. A few bigger countries have sided with Rhyfel, but all the smaller ones have either been taken over or are too afraid of Valka to join the fight.”

Donghyuck wasn’t sure what to think _._ He had been so in the dark for the longest time, learning all this new information felt like being shoved into the ocean and hitting the water belly first.

“And Prince Mark? That’s the best this country could scrounge up to lead their highest troops?”

“Well, to be fair,” Renjun spoke, “He doesn’t really have a choice. Being crown prince, the first step towards inheriting the throne is taking charge of His Majesty’s Imperial Army. He just had the horrid luck of having it passed on to him in the midst of the worst war in centuries.”

 _Wow. That is horrid luck._ If he thought about it that way, Donghyuck almost felt bad for the young prince.

 _This doesn’t change anything,_ his mind reminded him, _don’t forget your grudges; your perfectly reasonable grudges._

Donghyuck shovelled a final fistful of potatoes into his mouth, turning to his two friends. “Well, I’m ready to return to practice if—”

“Hey, wait.” Renjun interrupted. He held up a hand in silence when Donghyuck opened his mouth to retaliate. “Do you hear that?”

Donghyuck strained his ears to pick up anything out of the ordinary. There was the usual noisy buzz that was ever-present in camp; but now that he really focused, it did sound a bit louder than usual.

Something was going on, and it was coming from the entrance to camp.

Donghyuck glanced over at Renjun and Jeno, who were already watching him as if waiting for his cue.

“Let’s go check it out?” he offered, and his friends didn’t need any more prompting before they were on their feet and heading towards the noise.

*

The noise grew into general chaos as the trio drew closer.

What seemed like all of Camp had shown up at the entrance, gathered in a wide circle. Donghyuck couldn’t see what was in the middle that they were all watching, but whatever it was, it was certainly exciting, judging by the shouting and jeering and whispers of confusion that were coming from the onlookers.

Donghyuck began pushing through the crowd, not waiting to see if Jeno and Renjun were behind him. A few people gave him dirty looks, but moved aside nonetheless.

The first thing he saw was a flash of silver; somebody had drawn their blade. It was pointed down, towards the ground.

Next came a voice. “I don’t know who you think you are, Pipsqueak,” it said, “But I’m going to show you where that kind of smart talk will get you around here.”

“I’m— I’m not afraid of you,” came a small, trembling voice in response.

“Oh yeah? Well maybe you should be,” the first voice spoke, “since you won’t be making it past your first day here!”

Gasps arose from the crowd, and Donghyuck spotted the flash of the blade being brought up in the air.

Donghyuck’s brain went on autopilot. He surged the rest of the way through the crowd and into the center. He didn’t even have time to register the scene in front of him before he was sliding in front of the blade with his forearm raised up to block the blow.

The sword clanged off the leather arm guard Donghyuck had been wearing for sparring earlier. He thanked all higher powers that he had been too lazy to take his armor off for lunch; his wrist throbbed with a dull pain from the impact, but at the very least his hand wasn’t severed off completely.

“Lee Donghyuck!” The swordsman growled. Donghyuck took in the boy in front of him; he couldn’t put a name to the face, but he recognized him as one of Yangyang’s alliances. His round face was drawn into a scowl, and his beady eyes were narrowed. He looked ridiculous, but Donghyuck knew better than to laugh right now.

Donghyuck cradled his wrist to his chest and turned to see the other cause for all of the commotion.

Laying in the dirt, eyes wide with terror and looking entirely unintimidating, was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than a year or two younger than Donghyuck himself, but he had yet to lose the baby fat in his cheeks. His platinum blonde hair curled across his forehead, and he looked like he was about to cry.

Donghyuck turned back to the boy with the sword. “Who are you,” he asked him, “and what the hell is going on?”

“Hyeongjun,” the boy spit angrily, “and _what’s going on_ is frankly none of your business. You know, you have also been acting much too high and mighty ever since you got to Camp. Maybe I should show you as well—”

“Enough.”

Both Donghyuck and Hyeongjun started at the new voice. Yangyang pushed into the center of the circle from where he had been standing, watching. Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrowed. How had he not noticed the boy standing so conspicuously at the edge of the circle?

Yangyang didn’t look nearly as furious as Hyeongjun, but his eyes were still narrowed in frustration.

“ _Chenle_ here is a new arrival at camp,” Yangyang spoke directly to Donghyuck, “and the minute he arrived, he managed to provoke Hyeongjun here. Now, I personally wouldn’t have made such a scene, but I certainly wouldn’t risk anything to defend him.” Yangyang paused and glanced with distaste at the boy sitting in the dirt. “He has to learn how things work around here; don’t you think?”

A flame lit inside Donghyuck, and suddenly words were flying from his mouth control.

“You know, you’ve been going after me relentlessly for my apparently dangerous ego,” Donghyuck spit, “but I think you should take a look at yourself. You sure do like to act like you run this place, when you’ve been here how many years? And only now you stand any chance of making it to the Summer Tournament?”

Donghyuck knew right away that he had struck a nerve. Yangyang’s face was beet-red, and Donghyuck could almost see steam erupting from his ears. Maybe he would’ve felt more regret if Yangyang’s infuriated expression hadn’t brought him so much satisfaction.

“Fine then,” Yangyang spoke coolly, “You’re Camp’s new star, I think it’d be only fitting if you were the one to show him the ropes.”

Donghyuck recognized what this was. It was a challenge, and he wasn’t backing down.

“Alright. I’m sure he’ll be defeating you in duels within a week.”

“Then I’ll challenge him to one, in two weeks’ time. I guarantee that he won’t last five minutes, and I’ll be victorious, for all the sponsors to see.”

Donghyuck struggled to maintain a calm and collected appearance. How Yangyang thought it would be brag-worthy to defeat a brand-new recruit in a match that lasted five minutes, he had no idea.

“It’s decided, then.” Donghyuck spoke with finality. The crowd seemed to get the message that the excitement was over and began dispersing.

Once everyone was gone, including Yangyang and his friend who had started the whole mess, he glanced back at the boy he had essentially offered to mentor. Jeno and Renjun were already there, crouched next to him and asking if he was alright. The boy’s— Chenle’s— face was screwed up a little, as if he was trying not to cry.

“Hello,” Donghyuck spoke to Chenle. He cleared his throat when his words got stuck. “My name is Donghyuck. I’m sorry that you had to deal with them on your first day at Camp.”

Chenle nodded and got to his feet with the help of Jeno. As he was dusting off his pants, he mumbled, “Thanks for standing up for me back there. Although, I’m already committed to a duel with apparently the biggest bully here and I don’t even know what’s going on, entirely.”

A stab of guilt shot through Donghyuck’s chest. He hadn’t even stopped to think about what he had gotten Chenle into. “Look, I’m really sorry about dragging you into this,” Donghyuck said, “Truly. I know how it feels to be thrown into this place blindly, and immediately gain negative attention. Some time I’ll have to tell you the whole story about how I got into here.” Donghyuck sent Chenle a sardonic smile, who, to his great relief, returned it with the cutest smile Donghyuck had ever seen.

“Let’s show you around some, how does that sound?” Renjun’s voice, laced with amusement, broke in. “Since you’re Donghyuck’s newly adopted son, we’ll have to get you a bunk near his.”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow. “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or not.”

Chenle laughed this time, a small giggle that sounded like the bells in the center of Donghyuck’s village that marked the top of each hour. Donghyuck supposed, as he walked back towards the Pavillion now with Chenle in tow, that he wouldn’t really mind adopting the kid as his own.

*

“Quicker, quicker! One second too slow, and all your guards are down!” Donghyuck emphasized his point by swinging his sword around and knocking Chenle in the side. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but it was just enough to knock the blade out of his hand and send him grasping at his side.

Chenle let out a loud groan. Donghyuck almost felt bad for him as he stared at his discarded sword dejectedly. “The sword is too heavy, and I am too weak. I _can’t_ move faster.” He plopped himself down on the half-wall next to Jeno, because he knew Jeno would give him sympathy hugs. “I’ll never be fast enough for you _or_ Yangyang.”

Donghyuck sighed. “Don’t say that, all right? Strength is a pretty simple thing to fix. We can fit in some exercises to improve your strength. I know we don’t have a lot of time until your duel, but that just means we need to be tricky.”

_“Tricky?”_

Donghyuck hummed in confirmation. “Do you think I came here in perfect shape, either? I don’t think I had done anything nearly this physical in all my life before I came here. Yet I was able to hold Yangyang for nearly twenty minutes within my first couple weeks.”

“No way, really?!” Chenle’s eyes were wide. “Is that why he hates you so much? How’d you do it?”

Donghyuck chuckled. “First of all— no, that’s not what caused our bad blood, but it’s a long story. And the reason I was able to hold him for that long— Chenle, to fight you need to be smart. I can tell that you have that, right?”

“I’d say so,” Chenle said, nodding shyly. “I got pretty good marks in school. My mother also ran a butcher’s shop back home, and I helped her with quality inspection.”

“Perfect. That shows me you have the observational skills, the sharp eye to notice little details that others would miss. Now all you need to do is know what to look for when you’re fighting. Once you master that, you can even learn to fight without armor. It’s a risky gamble, but it gets rid of all the weight that’s been troubling you.”

Chenle’s eyes widened, then he grinned. “I get it. How do I know what to look for?”

Donghyuck was about to respond, invigorated by Chenle’s enthusiasm, but movement caught the corner of his eye. Voices began to filter into his ears, and he turned to look.

He tried to hide the way his heart flew to his throat. A small group of maybe five or six people were approaching. They were all chatting animatedly, dressed in fine silks of white and beige that caught the light of the afternoon sun. They were such a sharp contrast to the people he had seen lining the streets when he arrived, dressed in drab greys and browns.

These must be the elite, coming to observe the progress of this year’s batch of gladiators.

Chenle seemed to notice the approaching group at last. “Who are they?” he whispered.

Donghyuck gulped. “Don’t— Don’t worry about them. They’re from the city. They’ve come to watch.”

Chenle examined Donghyuck’s expression, and his eyes clouded with worry. “They’re important, aren’t they?”

A moment of heavy silence passed, then Donghyuck sighed.

“I suppose. But you don’t need to worry about them right now, you hear? Now let’s get back to practice.” He gestured to his fallen blade. “Pick up your sword and pay attention to me.”

Donghyuck wished he could tell Chenle not to worry because there was a slim chance he would even make it to the Tournament this year. He wished he could tell the boy that, but he wasn’t sure if it would relieve or discourage him more, so he kept his mouth shut.

Chenle nodded, and Donghyuck could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. He sent one last glance towards the watching socialites, with their glimmering skirts and whispered comments behind perfectly manicured hands, before forcing himself to look away.

Once Donghyuck began running Chenle through a match move by move, however, he seemed to forget all about their audience. It was like he was built for these mind games; he absorbed everything Donghyuck told him like a sponge, and wore a tiny, triumphant grin whenever he executed a technique perfectly.

The sun had begun its descent towards the horizon by the time they finally stopped. Chenle was gasping for air, sweat pouring down his face, but his expression showed nothing but pride. Donghyuck could feel it on his own; Chenle’s success felt like his success, and he couldn’t remember feeling this content at Camp since he had met Jeno’s cat Chip weeks earlier.

The grin on his face wavered a little when he glanced over to where Jeno and Renjun were waiting. Their faces were drawn in confusion and discomfort, and when they saw Donghyuck watching, Renjun jutted his head to the area behind Donghyuck, silent.

“You’re doing well here, I’m pleased,” a voice spoke up, and dread filled Donghyuck. It was a voice that he had hoped not to hear, yet it was unmistakably just a few feet away.

“Your highness,” Donghyuck seethed. Prince Mark was sitting on the half-wall, almost exactly where he had been the last time Donghyuck had seen him. He had his arms crossed, watching on with the easy grace and amusement of a cat observing an oblivious mouse. “How long have you been here?”

“For a half-hour, maybe, give or take. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, but then again you were quite immersed with your student there. He’s new?”

“Y-yes,” Chenle stuttered out. Donghyuck almost smiled at the nerves hiding behind the younger boy’s show of bravery.

The prince hummed. “You’re doing well teaching him, Donghyuck. You seemed to have caught on quite quickly yourself.”

Donghyuck scanned his friends’ faces. They all looked completely bewildered, staring at Donghyuck as if asking for an explanation. Donghyuck had nothing; he knew no better than them why the prince kept showing up.

“May I talk to you?” Donghyuck asked the Prince.

To his surprise, Prince Mark only shrugged. “Alright, then. As long as you don’t ambush me—” he grinned— “for as you can see, I don’t have my guards with me today.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “No harm will come to you today, precious prince.”

Donghyuck and the Prince began to walk, and there was nothing but tense silence for many minutes. It wasn’t until they had reached the secret spot overlooking the waterfall that Donghyuck finally spoke.

“Why do you keep showing up here?”

He didn’t look at Mark as he spoke. He could hear shuffling around behind him, and he struggled to avoid startling when the prince came to stand right next to him, so close that their arms almost brushed.

“To be honest,” Mark began, “The moment I first met you, I knew you were special. You’ve been doing surprisingly well here; no one has learnt this fast in only their first season— not since Taeyong. His situation was much like yours, you know? It was years ago— he showed up in late February, confused and afraid and with almost no experience— yet in the same year, he not only made it to the tournament, but he won it as well. And now he’s a general of the Imperial Guard, and my second in command.”

Donghyuck blinked. “So, what— you’re stalking me because you think I have potential?”

This earned a hearty laugh from the prince. “Well, I suppose. You’re interesting, Donghyuck— not only by your natural skill, but your attitude as well. I can’t remember the last time that _anyone_ has spoken to me in this way, let alone a gladiator, a prisoner of the state such as yourself.”

“Ah, so that’s it,” Donghyuck sneered, “I’ve shaken you in your boots because I had the audacity to not grovel at your feet with every word. Please, forgive me if I cannot find it in myself to fear you. I have nothing to lose, if you haven’t noticed, and it would injure my pride too much to let a cowardly prince such as yourself have your way with me.”

Donghyuck seemed to have struck a nerve, because the Prince’s expression soured. He glanced away for a moment, and by the time he looked back, his expression was schooled back into calm amusement.

“I can see that you don’t want to talk, so I’ll let you go,” Prince Mark finally spoke. “but I’ll leave you with this; as much as you vehemently hate me, I fear that I can’t bring myself to ignore you. I’ll be honest— taking over as Commander in Chief of the Imperial Guard was not something I was looking forward to. Yet with you— I’ve finally found something that catches my interest.”

He began to walk away through the waist deep grass, the setting sun lighting up his blonde hair as if it were on fire. He paused at the last second and turned back to Donghyuck.

“I do hope to see you in my ranks in a few months’ time, by the way,” he grinned back at Donghyuck, “Good luck.”

Donghyuck was speechless. He didn’t know what to respond, how to feel; flattered? Angry? Afraid? So, he settled on simply watching in silence as the prince got smaller and smaller in the distance, before disappearing from his line of sight altogether.

For a while Donghyuck only stood there, the only sounds being the rush of the waterfall, and the singing of the birds in the trees. It would’ve been nice if it were the song of the Condorian bush sparrow— a sound that had soothed him on many a night back home when he had run away to the coast to gather his thoughts— but it was an unfamiliar song, that of an unfamiliar species native to the Isles of Rhyfel.

Donghyuck’s heart suddenly ached for home. It ached for the warmth of the fireplace, his mom’s seaweed stew, and Yerim’s suffocating hugs. He had all but forgotten the taste of the salty sea air, or Sooyoung’s mouth-watering roast beef sandwiches. It had been over a year and a half since he had felt it all, and he knew deep in his heart that he would never experience it again.

Because even if he didn’t die in the Summer Tournament, he would spend the rest of his days either training in Camp or serving Rhyfel’s insufferable prince in the Imperial Guard.

Even if somehow, he managed to see his home again, it would all be burnt to the ground, devoid of any signs of life after the Valkan invasion. An empty shell of what had once been his home.

Donghyuck stomped over to a rock about the size of his head, lodged in the ground at the edge of the creek. He yanked it from the ground, dirt flying everywhere. Donghyuck lugged it, eyes red and chest heaving, to the fence.

With a raw scream, he sent the rock hurtling over the fence and into the spray of the waterfall. He watched it disappear into the mist, lost in the thundering rapids.

Donghyuck distantly registered the sensation of hot tears streaming down his face. He let out another scream and kicked one of the panels of the fence, sending it hurtling over the cliff as well.

He’d have to go back to his friends eventually and explain to them why he was acting so chummy with the prince of the nation. They’d be confused, no doubt, and maybe even hurt that Donghyuck hadn’t told them about their history long before. Donghyuck wasn’t ready for that— he wasn’t ready to have the only people in this country that he trusted turn away from him.

The furious energy seemed to drain from him all at once, and he collapsed onto a boulder with a broken sob. He knew that would never happen; his friends were much too loyal to turn their backs on him just like that. But he certainly was not looking forward to explaining the events of today to them. All he wanted was to eat a hearty dinner and return to the Barracks for bed.

His eyes turned back out to the canopy of trees covering the ravine below, watching the birds float from treetop to treetop. In Condor, they didn’t pray to gods; they prayed to their ancestors. The people of Condor believed that after you died, you were reincarnated as a spirit of nature— in the form of birds, squirrels, trees— to watch over your family and your village.

An inquisitive little bird with bright blue feathers landed on a fence post nearby and seemed to watch Donghyuck. Donghyuck tilted its head at the bird, and the bird tilted its head back. Donghyuck wondered if Dejun had been reincarnated as this little bird, and he had come to be his guardian.

Donghyuck wished more than anything that he could join his old friend, soaring over the canopy without a care in the world. He knew, however, that he had to keep moving, at least for now. If Dejun really had come all this way just to watch over him, then he couldn’t put his friend’s journey to waste.

With one last deep breath and a small nod to the bluebird, Donghyuck heaved himself up off the rock and began his trek back to the barracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/princehuangss) | [My CuriousCat](curiouscat.qa/princehuangss) ♡


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> icb i actually wrote this whole chapter in the span of like two days lmao 😳 hope y'all enjoy!!

Chenle, Donghyuck decided, was the perfect student.

He reminded Donghyuck so much of himself, it was almost painful. The boy was smart; he listened well and absorbed every word Donghyuck told him. He caught on almost as quickly as Donghyuck had, and by the time two weeks had come and gone, Chenle was able to hold his own in practice spars with ease.

They were warming up with a quick spar once again, waiting at the Pavilion for Hyeongjun to arrive. Donghyuck had worried that Chenle would be anxious, therefore not at his best, but he knew all his worries were for naught when the boy sent Donghyuck’s sword skittering across the dusty arena with a blinding smile.

“You’d better watch your back, old man,” Chenle teased, “or I’ll take your spot in the tournament!”

“Yeah, yeah. I was going easy on you, punk.”

Chenle giggled. “Okay, _sure._ ”

Donghyuck brought his fist back as if he were going to hit him and bared his teeth. Chenle’s giggle grew louder, and he ran across the Pavilion to cower behind Jeno.

Renjun, who had been watching with the subtlest of smiles, spoke up, “Chenle, don’t use up too much of your energy, alright? You should save it for the main event.”

Chenle nodded, hair bouncing with the motion. For some reason, he followed every word that came out of Renjun’s mouth like it was sacred.

They all took a seat on the half-wall around the edge of the Pavilion. Chenle took a seat beside Donghyuck and leaned his head down to rest on Donghyuck’s shoulder. The small, unconscious move of affection made Donghyuck’s heart swell. He reached up to ruffle Chenle’s hair.

“Donghyuck?” Chenle spoke.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I actually have a chance of beating that guy?”

Donghyuck sighed, contemplating his next words. “Well, I’m not sure, to be honest. Which is a good think, actually, because only a couple of weeks ago, I would’ve said that Hyeongjun would win without a doubt.”

Chenle didn’t say anything, but Donghyuck could feel the way his head nodded against his shoulder, prompting Donghyuck to continue.

“See, no one expects you to win. Hyeongjun is a bully who thinks this battle will be an easy win, that taking you down as fast as he can will boost his already massive ego. It’s pathetic, really.”

Chenle snorted, making Donghyuck smile. He continued, “That’s why, even if you don’t win, it’ll be alright, because no one really expected you to have a chance anyways. The goal today is to just hold him for as long as you can. Don’t let his win be easy. It’ll be a crushing blow.”

Chenle lifted his head and stared Donghyuck in the eye. His stare was resolute. “I can do that.”

Donghyuck nodded, his grin widening. “I know you can.”

As if on cue, Hyeongjun came sidling up to the Pavilion with a smug expression on his face, followed closely behind by Yangyang and the rest of their bottom feeder crew.

Yangyang didn’t say a word, staying off to the side and watching with narrowed eyes as Hyeongjun sidled up to Chenle, getting right up into his face and forcing him to look up in order to make eye contact. It was a move that all of the village bullies had used on Donghyuck when he was small, and his impulse control was even worse than it currently was. It made Donghyuck’s blood boil.

“You ready to be ruined, pipsqueak?” Hyeongjun jeered.Chenle grinned, the terrifying one that made him look like he had shaved your eyebrows and was waiting for you to notice. He took the sword from Jeno’s outstretched hand and gave it a flourish. “You watch your back,” he responded, “I won’t go down easy.”

*

Sixteen minutes later, and Hyeongjun finally knocked the blade from between Chenle’s hands. They were both breathing heavily, except Chenle wore the expression of the winner and Hyeongjun the contrary.

There were a few weak cheers from Hyeongjun’s side, but it was mostly a shocked, stuffy silence.

Hyeongjun’s brows furrowed. “Four minutes…” he murmured, “it was supposed to be…”

Chenle only gave an exaggerated bow. “Good match.”

Hyeongjun scowled, and threw his sword down, face still red and gasping for air. Yangyang turned and stormed out.

Donghyuck smiled.

*

That night, all four of them made their way to their secret spot at the edge of Camp. Chenle, as Donghyuck’s newly adopted mentee, was now part of their group by association.

Jeno had found some kindling along the fence and had somehow summoned a fire, around which they all now sat. The flames cast a golden glow on his friends’ faces and warmed Donghyuck’s face, warding off the slight chill of the late spring evening.

“Do you all think we’ll get sponsors this year?” Renjun spoke up.

Jeno gave a small smile. “I wouldn’t doubt for a second that you’ll get one, Jun. I wouldn’t be surprised if Donghyuck got one, too.”

Renjun kicked a stick into the fire. “You’ve improved a lot this year, too, Jeno. I bet you’ll get one.”

Jeno shrugged. “I suppose,” he reasoned, “but I’m not even sure if I’m hoping for one or not, you know?”

Chenle shivered. “I hope I don’t get one. Getting a sponsor means I have a chance of making it to the tournament. And making it to the tournament…”

His words trailed off, but they all knew the implications that were there.

They ended up staying and talking well into the night, much later than they usually did. Donghyuck didn’t want to go to sleep; he wanted to put off the looming events of tomorrow morning off for as long as he could.

If only they could all stay here forever, laughing over the crackling flames, watched over by the canopy of stars above them. If Donghyuck could suspend time, he would stop it right here, because none of the possible outcomes of the next morning seemed desirable, if he were honest.

The evening finally came to an end, however. Donghyuck made the trek back to the barracks as slow as he could, focusing on the weight of the snoring Chenle on his back, and the gentle murmur of Renjun and Jeno’s hushed voices from beside him.

If he pinned his attention hard enough on these little things, then maybe he could forget the anxiety thrumming in his chest, at least for a moment.

*

“Donghyuck!”

“Hey Donghyuck, wake up!”

Donghyuck cracked open his eyes. He blinked groggily, letting his eyes adjust to the light of day. He glanced over at the window; it was overcast outside, but it was still jarring against the peaceful darkness of sleep.

He finally became aware of a pair of hands on his bicep, gently shaking him awake. He recognized the voice belonging to the hands as Jeno’s.

“Hyuck, the sponsors are up!”

A jolt went through Donghyuck, and suddenly he was wide awake. He sat up quickly and shoved his feet into the boots sitting on the ground at the foot of his bed.

He looked around and noticed that it was only him and Jeno in the barracks. It was empty besides them; not even Renjun or Chenle were there.

“They’re already there,” Jeno said, as if reading Donghyuck’s mind, “as well as the rest of the camp.”

Donghyuck grabbed Jeno by the arm and dragged him out of the barracks. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

Jeno shuddered. “Trust me, we did. Donghyuck, your subconscious self is pure evil.” Donghyuck chuckled at that. His mother had said the same.

Jeno reached back into the knapsack slung over his shoulder as they walked and pulled out two slightly crushed slices of toasted bread. “You missed breakfast,” was all he said as he shoved the food into Donghyuck’s hands. Donghyuck shoved one into his mouth and stuffed the other one into his pocket for later.

A thick mist hung over Camp, hiding everything more than a short distance away in a veil of secrecy. The silence between Donghyuck and Jeno was thick and riddled with anxiety.

“Have you seen them yet?” Donghyuck mumbled, voice muffled by the muffin in his mouth.

Jeno shook his head ‘no’. “I wanted to wait for all of us to be here,” he responded, and Donghyuck commended his patience.

A low rumble of commotion rose through the suffocating mist.

The entire camp, it seemed, had gathered into one writhing group, pushing each other over in order to get to the front. Shouts of confusion, excitement, and dismay all wove over each other, creating a general sense of chaos.

At the very front was a long scroll of parchment, nailed to a post. The royal seal was printed neatly at the top, and indecipherable text stretched out below. Donghyuck’s heart sped up as he and Jeno approached.

At first no one noticed their presence, everyone too busy trying desperately to get a glimpse of the list. Yet as they pushed their way through the crowd, people caught sight of Donghyuck, and the shouts and exclamations faded into shocked whispers.

 _“That’s him,”_ Donghyuck could have sworn he heard one person say.

Dread filled his stomach. They found Chenle and Renjun standing at the front, their eyes glued on the paper and their jaws slack.

“What’s going on?” Donghyuck asked, sounding shakier than he would have liked.

Chenle’s eyes whipped around to look at him. “Donghyuck, you’re awake—”

“Let me see the list.” He spoke firmly and strode right up to the list.

His eyes scanned the list to find names he recognized. A bitter taste filled his mouth when he spotted both Yangyang and Hyeongjun’s names. He didn’t recognize the names of their sponsors, but he didn’t underestimate their undoubtable wealth.

Renjun and Jeno’s names were both further down the list. Jeno’s sponsor was a lord of some Northern pass, and Renjun’s a powerful merchant from one of the coastal cities. Donghyuck wasn’t sure if he should’ve sighed a breath of relief or felt worried.

His heart sped up as he approached the bottom of the list and his name was nowhere to be found. The crowd behind him was still quiet, watching with bated breaths and increasingly aggressive whispers.

Donghyuck finally reached the last name on the list and his heart nearly stopped in his chest. His blood felt like it was frozen in his veins, and his brain seemed to stall.

 _Donghyuck Lee,_ read the last name in neat red ink. It was followed by a curling line, and another name. Donghyuck’s sponsor.

 _Mark Lee,_ read the other name, _Prince of Turrim, Commander in Chief of His Majesty’s Imperial Guard._

Donghyuck sputtered a confused, “I don’t— what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, you tell us.”

Donghyuck turned to see Yangyang pushing through the crowd. His gaze was almost murderous. “You’re the one that’s getting special favors from the one person running this whole ordeal. What, are you getting in bed with him every night? Is that why he treats you like you’re some prophet sent from above?”

Donghyuck’s vision went red, and he surged forward. Jeno and Renjun grabbed hold of both of his arms to hold him back, and he struggled in their grasp.

“Fuck you, Liu,” he spit, “I know the motives behind the Prince’s decisions just as well as you do. The fact that you would even _imply_ —”

“Hey, don’t blame me for jumping to conclusions,” Yangyang growled. “I would only assume that the Prince of our nation would have some sort of ulterior motive for paying so much attention to _you,_ of all people.”

Donghyuck sneered. “I could smell your jealousy from miles away, Yangyang. I know you must be pretty bitter, spending all these years here only for someone like me to suddenly steal the spotlight, huh?”

Yangyang’s face went expressionless, his rage only reflected in the depths of his eyes. “You’re quite sure of yourself, Lee. If I remember correctly, it was me who won the match.” Despite his words, Yangyang’s voice shook, as if he were trying to convince himself more than Donghyuck.

“It’ll be different next time.” Donghyuck’s voice echoed in the dead silence surrounding them, and it made him shiver. “I’ll prove that the Prince’s faith in my abilities is not unfounded.”

Donghyuck’s eyes scanned the crowd that, moments before, had been clamoring noisily to get a look at the Sponsors list. They were all silent now, some whispering. Watching Donghyuck with curious, spiteful eyes as if he were some wild animal on display.

He didn’t even bother waiting for a reply from Yangyang before Donghyuck was turning on his heel and storming away.

His mind was a mess. Donghyuck just knew that he needed to get far away from here, far away from the stares and the poison dripping from Yangyang’s tongue.

Once he was out of sight he broke into a sprint. The grass was slippery with leftover rainwater and Donghyuck caught himself mid-slip at least a few times. He let his feet lead the way, and before he knew it, he had arrived at the barracks.

Donghyuck slowed to a gradual stop, and let himself catch his breath. He instantly felt a tiny weight off his shoulders when he saw that he was completely alone.

Donghyuck removed the toast Jeno had given him from his pocket. He crouched along the wall and waited, bread sitting in an outstretched hand. He smiled when the grass began to shift, and out of it popped a tiny, grey-striped kitten.

“Hello, Chip,” Donghyuck mused. He giggled when the little feline came scampering up to him without a second thought, snatching the snack out of his hands. Donghyuck watched in peaceful silence as her tiny teeth nibbled at the bread. He reached out to stroke at her ears and was pleased when she didn’t even pause to acknowledge it.

He stayed there like that, stroking Chip’s head and watching her eat, for a good while. When Chip finally finished her bread, she circled once around Donghyuck’s heels, knocking her head against his hand as if to say thank you, before disappeared into the high grass again. Donghyuck watched her leave but didn’t move.

A few minutes later, his peaceful sanctuary was disrupted.

“Donghyuck, there you are!” Jeno came flying around the corner, Renjun hot on his heels. They were both out of breath as they slowed to a walk. “We’ve been searching everywhere with you.”

Donghyuck turned his eyes back out to the high grass and shrugged. “Been feeding Chip.”

Jeno smiled and came to sit next to him. Renjun followed. They sat in silence for a few long moments before Jeno spoke again.

“Well, we all have sponsors this year,” Jeno chuckled, “I don’t know whether I should be anxious or excited.”

“Why would he do that?” Donghyuck blurted.

Jeno looked at him curiously. “Why would who do what?”

“Prince Mark. Isn’t he the one who runs this thing? He leads the goddamn Imperial Guard. Isn’t it collusion or something if he sponsors me?”

Jeno shook his head. “To be honest, I’ve no idea. This is unprecedented, you know. A member of the royal family has never sponsored a gladiator before.”

Donghyuck groaned and placed his head in his hands. “I knew the Prince was stupid, but I may have underestimated him.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Jeno began, “but you do have to keep in mind that the Prince is barely older than we are. This is his first time really being in charge of the games. He’s probably confused, maybe a little scared. Doesn’t really know what he’s doing yet.”

Donghyuck groaned again. “Don’t make me sympathize with him, please.”

Jeno let out a good-natured laugh and turned to raise an eyebrow at Renjun. “You know what I think we all need?”

Renjun’s eyes narrowed, and a mischievous smirk grew on his face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I think so!”

Donghyuck looked back and forth between the two, his confusion growing. “Hey, what are you two talking about?”

Jeno turned to smile at him, and Donghyuck shivered when he found that it was just as mischievous as Renjun’s.

“You’ll see,” he said in a sing-song voice, “meet us here tonight, right before curfew.”

And before Donghyuck could even get a word in, the pair was already leaving, giggling conspiratorially between themselves.

Donghyuck watched them go, confusion settling in his gut. _What the hell was that all about?_

*

Donghyuck didn’t question Jeno and Renjun’s uncontained excitement making itself obvious all throughout dinner. He even joined them at their meeting point, right before curfew as they had instructed, despite the ever-growing concern he felt.

“Can you two tell me where we’re going now, please?” he begged, but Jeno only yanked him by the hand towards the front gates of Camp. “You’ll see!” he sang, and that was all.

The trio slowed to a stop right at the border of Camp. While most of the border was only marked off by fences, the portion at the front surrounding the gates was made of carefully laid stone. They were a little way down from the gates, right where the stone wall turned to fence. Donghyuck almost let out an exclamation of surprise when, without hesitation, Renjun squeezed through the narrow gap between fence and wall.

“What the hell are you doing?” Donghyuck hissed.

Renjun turned back to him and laughed at Donghyuck’s expression. “Come on, you big baby. Trust me, just come on through!”

Donghyuck glanced back at Jeno with wild eyes, as if to ask, ‘ _should I follow the crazy man’s orders?’_ to which Jeno only snorted and nudged him towards the gap.

Once they were all through, Renjun scanned the area around them, as if looking for something. Or some _one,_ he thought a moment later when Renjun cupped his hands to his mouth, and somewhere in between a whisper and a shout, called out, “Yukhei! Yukhei, are you there?”

Donghyuck nearly jumped out of his skin when a few moments later, an unfamiliar figure came stumbling out from behind some trees. Donghyuck looked him up and down; he was tall and sturdy looking, and Donghyuck didn’t doubt that he would make a great gladiator himself. He had gentle eyes, and a blinding smile that stretched from ear to ear.

Donghyuck looked down, and his blood went cold when he took in the uniform he was wearing. Shiny boots, white gloves, and a jacket adorned with an array of shiny pins and badges; this man was a member of the Imperial Guard.

Jeno seemed to notice the way Donghyuck was on edge, and he brought a hand up to rub his shoulder soothingly. “Don’t worry, Hyuckie! He’s a friend, he’s on our side.”

Donghyuck only stared, skeptical. “Why would he help us? Couldn’t he get into a lot of trouble?”

The man, Yukhei, stepped forward and held out a hand for Donghyuck to shake. “I’m Yukhei,” he spoke, his low, rumbling voice instantly putting Donghyuck at ease, “It’s nice to meet you. Don’t worry, I’ll be looking out for you tonight.”

Donghyuck took his hand hesitantly. The pure sincerity of his smile was unnerving, but Donghyuck nodded in assent anyways. Anyone his friends trusted, Donghyuck trusted too.

Jeno walked ahead, side by side with Yukhei and in deep conversation with the taller man. Jeno let out a laugh, his eyes squeezing all the way shut from the force of it. Donghyuck’s heart melted a little; he could barely remember the last time he had seen his friend this happy and carefree.

He looked over to see Renjun watching his expression, a small yet fond smile on his face. “Yukhei’s a childhood friend of Jeno’s,” Renjun began, eyes never leaving their friend, “he got recruited for the Imperial Army right before Jeno was given the gladiator sentence.”

A pang echoed through Donghyuck’s chest. “That must’ve been hard for him.”

Renjun snorted. “Yeah, he felt like shit for a good few months. Apparently, he was about to quit but Jeno convinced him not to, and now he’s moved up to Imperial Guard.”

Donghyuck had completely forgotten that winning the Summer Tournament wasn’t the only way into the Imperial Guard. Renjun continued. “Besides slipping us out of Camp when we need a break, he’s also been searching for Jeno’s family.”

“Jeno’s family?” Donghyuck suddenly recalled their conversation from the first time they had visited the waterfall, back when he was still brand new to Camp. He remembered that Jeno had said he didn’t know where his family was, if they were even still alive.

“It’s difficult to slip out, obviously. But when he’s on assignment away from Turrim, he’s searching high and low all across the Isles, looking for the Lees.”

Donghyuck could practically feel his heart breaking in his chest. He knew what it felt like, not having a single clue where his family was, hoping irrationally, _desperately,_ that they were all out there somewhere, alive and safe. In that moment, Donghyuck wanted nothing more than for his friend to be reunited with his family.

Donghyuck and Renjun lapsed into a comfortable silence as Yukhei led them through the alleys and side streets of Turrim. It was now closing in on midnight, meaning that the streets were almost completely deserted, making sneaking around much easier.

Puddles lingered on the cobblestone streets from the rain the night before, reflecting the yellow light from the streetlamps and the few businesses that were still open at this hour. As Yukhei instructed them to crouch down and crawl beneath the lit-up window of a bakery, Donghyuck risked a peek inside. A woman was kneading dough inside, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She said something to a man— maybe her husband— and her head fell back with the force of a laugh Donghyuck couldn’t hear. Donghyuck’s heart yearned for something like this. So simple and happy, not having to worry if you or your loved ones would make it another day.

Before long, Yukhei drew to a halt outside a building. The only window looking in was covered by a heavy curtain, but Donghyuck could hear general commotion from within, many voices overlapping each other, singing and shouting with joy.

Yukhei held a single finger up to his lips before turning back around and pushing open the door.

The loud voices only became amplified as they made their way in. It was dark, and bodies were pressed close together, filling every corner of the tiny space. Some people were drinking and talking, others were dancing along to the fiddler performing on the low stage at the very back.

It was a bar. Donghyuck had heard of these during his time in Valka, but he had never been to one. All he knew was that he enjoyed the anonymity, the way no one even spared them a glance as Yukhei led them through the crowd and to an empty booth.

“I’ll leave you guys here. Once you’re ready to leave, come find me out front, yeah?” Yukhei shot them one last warm grin. Jeno returned it, “Thank you, Yukhei. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

Yukhei shook his head. “Just get out of that awful camp, and it’ll all be fine.”

Donghyuck watched Yukhei’s broad back receding through the crowd and he wondered how someone so completely good and selfless could even exist in a world like this, let alone as a member of the Imperial Guard.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts. Tonight was about having fun; Yukhei had worked so hard to get them here so they could unwind a little, and that was exactly what Donghyuck was going to do.

One hour later and Donghyuck had consumed so many drinks he had lost count. At one point he had found himself stumbling out onto the floor when the fiddler started up an energetic song. He danced a bit with a man he had barely looked in the face, and lost interest after ten minutes when the man had tried to lean in for a kiss.

He stumbled back to their booth, yet another drink in hand, completely ready to complain to his friends about how this place was filled with desperate people. He stopped short, however, when he slid into the booth and found that Jeno and Renjun were completely in their own little world.

“Don’t drink too much, Jen,” Renjun mumbled, “or else you’ll be too drunk to walk.” He finished his sentence by brushing a strand out of Jeno’s face. Donghyuck snorted. It was a bit too late for that; both of them were undoubtedly just as inebriated as Donghyuck was.

Jeno only nodded, “I won’t, don’t worry Jun.” He smiled his signature eye smile, and Renjun returned it was a look just as gooey. Donghyuck suddenly felt like he was interrupting something.

After what felt like no time at all, Yukhei came back for them. He told them that they had to get somewhat sober before they returned to Camp, to which Renjun gave him a not-very-Renjun-like pout in response.

On the way back, Donghyuck let his feet drag through the puddles. He didn’t want to return yet; he hadn’t felt this relaxed and carefree in well over a year. He yearned for the anonymity of the bar, for the easy domesticity of the couple in the bakery. Maybe if he had been born a citizen of the Isles, he would have been able to experience something like that.

 _No,_ Donghyuck thought to himself, _I would never give up my life in Condor. Besides, if the war gets any worse, then nobody will be living in peace._ Donghyuck sighed and carried on.

Donghyuck’s heart felt heavy as Camp loomed into sight, and he could see it reflected onto his friend’s faces as they squeezed through the gap and bid Yukhei their sorrowful goodbyes.

Donghyuck wondered when and if he’d ever see him again.

*

The next morning, Donghyuck missed breakfast.

It was easy to justify, given the pounding hangover that made him want nothing more than to sleep forever, and maybe dig his brains out through his ears.

He then skipped lunch, too, because he decided that he was simply not ready to face the scrutinizing eyes of the rest of Camp.

When dinnertime came around, however, Donghyuck forced himself to get up out of bed and go. He’d have to face them eventually, he told himself, and he couldn’t keep taking advantage of Jeno’s kind nature and the fact that the boy was on kitchen duty that week to keep bringing him food.

Everyone, of course, stopped what they were doing when Donghyuck approached. Conversations stopped, and all eyes were attached onto him like leeches. Some were just curious, nosy, but some were downright sour.

Donghyuck scurried over to where Renjun sat alone as quickly as he could. He ducked his head down and waited for the conversations to start back up again before leaning over towards the other boy.

“Decided to finally haul my sorry ass out of bed and face the people. Are you proud?”

Renjun smirked. “To be honest, I’m jealous that I didn’t think of doing that myself. Also, they’ve marked me, too, now. Purely out of my association with you.”

Donghyuck swallowed, sheepish. “Uhh, sorry about that.”

“Oh, I do not mind at all,” Renjun chuckled, “Let them be scared. The power is going to go to my head, though.”

Donghyuck cackled at his friend’s words. Before he could say anything else, though, the people in charge of serving emerged from the kitchens with trays of steaming soup. One server made a beeline for Renjun and Donghyuck, serving them first. It was a little strange, but Donghyuck didn’t care. The inviting aroma of the soup was making his stomach grumble; he hadn’t realized how hungry he had been until now.

Donghyuck immediately dug in, shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth. He paused for a moment at the taste; it had almost a tangy flavor that Donghyuck had never really tasted in a soup before.

“Is it just me or does this taste kind of funny to you?” Donghyuck asked.

Renjun just shrugged. “It’s probably just the spices,” he said through a mouthful of soup. Donghyuck shrugged as well and continued to eat.

Donghyuck was barely halfway through his bowl of soup when there was sudden commotion from the kitchen. He glanced up, and his eyes widened when he saw Jeno bolting towards them, a look of horror on his face.

“Donghyuck, stop!” Jeno shouted. He came skidding to a halt in front of Renjun and Donghyuck. Donghyuck wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t for Jeno to knock the bowl out of his hands, sending both the bowl and its remaining contents flying across the dirt.

“Jeno, what the hell—” Donghyuck stuttered. The attention of the dining hall was completely on them once again.

The look of horror stayed put on Jeno’s face as he breathed heavily. “Donghyuck— your soup, it was—”

Jeno hadn’t even finished his sentences when a burning pain came searing up Donghyuck’s torso, starting at his stomach and filling his chest.

“Gods, what—” he groaned, doubling over. His vision went spinning, as if looking through a kaleidoscope, before it all went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/princehuangss) | [My CuriousCat](curiouscat.qa/princehuangss) ♡


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and at last, we get a little markhyuck.... enjoy :D

The first thing that registered when Donghyuck awoke was the pounding in his head.

His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and the brightness of the morning poked at the back of his eyelids like red hot needles.

Not wanting to open his eyes quite yet, he nestled further into his bedsheets. The room was warm, but not like the stifling heat of the barracks in the warmer weather; those buildings kept in every ounce of warmth, and while that was probably great in the winter months, it only led to uncomfortable, sweaty nights during the late spring and summer.

His bed was softer, too. The blankets were thicker and plusher, and the mattress seemed to mold to the shape of his body. When he fidgeted, there was a surprising lack of squeaky springs.

Donghyuck furrowed his brows. Something was not right.

He carefully pulled himself into a sitting position, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that came with the movement. Donghyuck must have made some sort of face because there was a hand abruptly on his back, rubbing circles, and a voice saying, “Hey, careful. Here, take this.”

Donghyuck finally let his eyes fall open when a cold, metal object was placed in his lap. He squinted down at it, trying to see past the blinding sunlight filling the room.

It was a shallow metal basin. Visions suddenly popped into Donghyuck’s head, brief flashbacks from throughout the night before— of sitting upright in bed, terror in his veins and people rushing to his side with the basin, barely making it to him before he got violently sick.

Donghyuck took a deep, steadying breath before shaking his head and pushing the basin away. “I’m fine,” he croaked, his voice coarse and scratchy from a night of abuse.

The rubbing on his back continued. It felt so comforting and gentle, Donghyuck couldn’t help the sigh he let out, or the way he leaned back into it slightly. It reminded Donghyuck vividly of when he was small, and he was plagued by night terrors or stomach bugs that would keep him up at night. His mother would sit with him in the room he shared with his younger sisters and rub his back just like this until he finally succumbed to sleep.

“Feeling better?” the voice next to him spoke again, with a tone of soft amusement. Donghyuck froze, all of the sleepy contentment leaving his body because he _knew_ that voice.

Donghyuck’s eyes landed on the prince, his face falling into a default state of hostility. “What are you doing here?”

Prince Mark only chuckled. “Well, this _is_ my castle.”

His… castle? Donghyuck quickly took in the room they were in. It was long, with vaulted ceilings; the largest room he had ever seen or been in, even taking his time in Valka into consideration. The walls were lined with tall, narrow windows filled with stained glass, showering the room with warm, rainbow hues. Both this wall and the opposite were lined with beds that matched Donghyuck’s, with pristine white sheets and separated by thick red curtains. If they were in the castle, then this could only be the hospital wing.

“What the hell am I doing here?” Donghyuck rasped, trying to sound angry.

“You don’t remember?” Mark’s eyes were suddenly filled with concern, boring into Donghyuck. “Your food was poisoned last night. You barely made it here in time for my healers to help you.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “Right. Almost forgot I have a bounty on my head now.”

The prince looked guilty all of a sudden. “I suppose I only have myself to blame. The royal family has never sponsored anyone before; I knew there would be some blowback, but I never could have expected something like this.”

“Forethought’s not exactly your strong suit, is it?”

Something flashed in Mark’s eyes, and he opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but he let it fall shut again. Anger and determination joined the concern in his eyes.

“We’ll find who did it. Give them a life sentence for what they did.”

Donghyuck sighed. Someone had tried to take his life, yet for some reason he couldn’t find it in himself to feel the need for vengeance that he had expected of himself.

Mark spoke again. “Do you have any idea who it could have been? Do you have any… enemies at camp?”

Donghyuck’s thoughts immediately went to Yangyang, but something did not feel right about this. Despite his fiery dislike for the other boy, he just couldn’t see him slipping poison into his dish when nobody was looking.

Yangyang was a lot of unpleasant things, but he wasn’t a coward.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Donghyuck finally settled on.

Mark looked unsatisfied, but he nodded, nonetheless. He stood up from his seat next to Donghyuck’s bed. The prince began to turn towards the door but let his eyes hover over Donghyuck as if he was hesitant to leave.

“Let the nurses know when you’re feeling better, alright? So I can come and fetch you.”

Donghyuck pondered for a moment not telling the nurses so he wouldn’t have to talk to Mark anymore, but he realized that staying in the castle would only subject him to more bothering, so he nodded.

Donghyuck watched Mark’s back as the prince headed towards the door and out of the room. Alone with his own thoughts, he began scrutinizing the room he was in again.

No one else seemed to be occupying a bed, which both relieved Donghyuck and set him on edge. Every little movement echoed throughout the cavernous space and made Donghyuck shrink in on himself. The castle was awe-inspiring— the regality and sheer immensity of it completely new to Donghyuck— yet he felt an uncomfortable itch beneath his skin. Donghyuck was accustomed to wide open meadows and oceans that went on for miles, but he had always preferred the buildings of Condor, with their low roofs and cozy living spaces.

The people of Condor were resourceful, and prioritized family above all other. A home didn’t need to be massive to feel like home, as long as it perfectly fit all your loved ones. The empty space felt cold and unwelcoming compared to the wood-paneled walls of Donghyuck’s childhood home that had been covered from floor to ceiling with memories.

Donghyuck took the risk and eased himself into a standing position beside his bed. Once the world had stopped spinning and the wave of fresh nausea had eased, he took timid steps towards one of the windows.

The stone surrounding it jutted out, creating a perfect alcove for Donghyuck to jump up into. He curled himself up small and squinted through a section of the stained glass. The city of Turrim bustled about below. Donghyuck could see people with horse-drawn carriages stop alongside the streets to pick up a parcel, or to visit a friend. The lower class hurried by on foot, with sacksful of groceries and small children tugging at their clothes.

Donghyuck could see why a king who loved his country might want a castle situated right here, in the heart of his capital. Yet, sitting up here in his alcove, it wasn’t only the red-stained glass that made Donghyuck feel like he was looking down with rose-colored glasses. The view from up in this grand room, wrapped in soft linen sheets, was vastly different from the view down on the cobblestone streets, dark and wet with rain, looking into bakery windows like they were windows into the soul.

Donghyuck let himself become hypnotized by the buzzing, constant motion down on the streets. He almost drifted off where he was curled in his alcove, bathing in the late morning sun. He was rudely jarred to attention when the great, oak doors swung open and a woman in medical garb entered.

She looked tightly strung, and the sight of Donghyuck perched like a cat in the window made her heave a sigh. “You look like you’re feeling much better,” she said, “so I’ll leave these here for you to change into. Once you’re ready, find me outside and I’ll bring you to the prince.” She set down a pile of folded clothes on Donghyuck’s nightstand and left with a huff. Donghyuck glanced down at himself; it was only then that he realized his old clothes had been exchanged for a white hospital gown. Donghyuck’s neck heated up at the thought of someone changing his clothes while he was unconscious.

Once the doors had fallen shut again behind the nurse, Donghyuck slid down from his alcove and padded over to the clothes on bare feet. He held the garments up and expected them; they were clean, freshly pressed and of good quality. Slightly nicer, in fact, than his old ones, but still in the drab earth tones that established his status as a lowly gladiator.

Donghyuck dressed quickly, watching his reflection in the floor-length mirror propped against the wall beside his bed. The brown trousers and leather boots were almost identical to old ones besides being clean and new, but the tunic he had been given was a nice cream color. It complimented his sun-kissed complexion perfectly. Donghyuck smiled.

He took in the state of his hair. It was clean now, but it had gotten long and unruly during his time at Camp. It fell in his eyes and tickled his cheeks in a very distracting manner. He rooted through a set of drawers containing medical supplies until he found what he was looking for: a spool of twine, and a set of surgical scissors. He cut himself a length of twine and tied his hair back into a small ponytail. With one last glance at the mirror, Donghyuck determined that he was ready to go.

He found the nurse outside, and she took off down the castle’s hallways, not even waiting to see if Donghyuck was following.

For the first time, Donghyuck got a good view of the inside of the castle. He found his jaw slack in awe, despite himself, his eyes barely able to keep up with the sights in front of him. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, flanked by windows that spanned from wall to ceiling, and intricate spires that looked as if they had taken a lifetime to carve.

They pushed through another set of doors and suddenly they weren’t in a hallway anymore. The room they were in made the medical wing look positively tiny; the red-and-violet tiled floor looked as if it could have fit the entire village square from Donghyuck’s home village. Nothing filled the room besides two lines of primly dressed guards along either wall, and three massive thrones at the front.

While roaming the room, Donghyuck’s eyes fell on a familiar figure; Mark was standing at the far corner, chatting to one of the guards. Donghyuck watched as the prince doubled over in laughter at whatever the guard said and clapped his hands together. Donghyuck had never seen Mark like this, actually acting his age. It made him feel strange, and Donghyuck didn’t like it.

Donghyuck followed the nurse as she strode across the room without hesitation, her shoes clacking against the tile. Mark’s head shot towards the sound, and his eyes lit up at the sight of them. Donghyuck could see him bid a quick goodbye to the guard before walking to meet them halfway.

“Thank you, Irene,” he nodded to the nurse with a warm smile. The nurse’s cold features melted for a quick moment as she returned the grin. Donghyuck’s eyes bulged when she reached a hand up and ruffled Mark’s hair before turning and leaving.

Mark laughed at Donghyuck’s look of surprise. “She may seem a little cold on the outside, but she’s actually very nice. She’s taken care of me ever since I was a baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup,” Mark huffed a fond laugh, “When I was five and bedridden with pneumonia, she would tend to me every day. She’s basically my second mother.”

The beginning of a smile worked its way onto Donghyuck’s face before he schooled it back into a frown. Without even realizing, Mark had tricked him into an easy conversation. Donghyuck grunted and looked away, signaling that it was over.

It was silent as Mark led Donghyuck out of the throne room and down one of the twin marble staircases leading down from the castle. A carriage was waiting at the top of the curved drive, led by a man in a suit, and four midnight black stallions. Mark opened the door and gestured Donghyuck inside. Donghyuck hesitated but stepped into the vehicle anyways.

Donghyuck sank into the velvet cushions, leaning back and letting his eyes fall shut. He was vaguely aware of Mark as he settled into the seat across from him, but Donghyuck didn’t move. The seats were undeniably comfortable, and Donghyuck might as well enjoy it before he had to return to Camp, where nothing was remotely as comfortable as this.

Donghyuck was jostled slightly as the carriage spurred into motion, and soon the gentle rumble of the cobblestone beneath the wheels formed a comforting rhythm. Donghyuck might have even let himself fall asleep entirely if the trip back to Camp wasn’t only a few minutes long.

Except that after a few minutes, the carriage was still rumbling down the street at the same clip, showing no signs of stopping.

Donghyuck wrenched his head up from the cushioned backrest. He yanked aside the curtain over the window only to see that they were going in the complete opposite direction of Camp. They were entering what must have been the center of Turrim, because the carriage was forced to slow down to weave itself through the crowded streets. It wasn’t too difficult; as soon as people recognized the ornate royal seal on the side of the vehicle, they ducked out of the way as quick as they could. Donghyuck’s skin itched in the strangest way as he watched the way the people’s eyes filled with reverence at their simple presence.

“Where are we going?” Donghyuck growled. “Why aren’t you taking me back?”

Mark sighed, as if he had been expecting this kind of reaction. “Well, for as much uproar as it caused, I am still your sponsor. As such, I will be doing what I can to help you win; we’re going shopping.”

Donghyuck was speechless for a moment, mouth slack. “Isn’t that just a _little_ unfair, your majesty?”

“How so? You do know what sponsor means, correct?” Mark’s head tilted in inquiry, and Donghyuck’s blood boiled at his haughty tone. “The better the gladiator, the better sponsors they pull. The better the sponsor, the better the benefits. I saw the most potential in you, and now you reap the benefits. Aren’t you happy?”

Donghyuck huffed. “I think _you’re_ the one that doesn’t understand, your majesty. _You_ and your family are the ones running these games. And while I don’t agree that poisoning my food was right, I _do_ understand their anger. It smells an awful lot like corruption when the very people in charge of the games are allowed to financially support one of its participants.”

Mark’s eyes were wide, and Donghyuck could practically see the gears whirring in his head, absorbing Donghyuck’s word. Donghyuck took a deep breath and continued.

“Not to mention that— I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten— I’m _brand new_ this year. Before maybe a month or so ago, I couldn’t even hold a sword correctly. Imagine how peculiar it would look if I somehow came out on top at the tournament when there are some gladiators who have been training here for half their lives. It would make people wonder; don’t you think?”

The silence that settled between them was deafening. Mark was still staring at Donghyuck as if he had just informed Mark that his whole family had died. Donghyuck simply sighed and went back to staring out the window. He could hardly believe that the prince had really thought this through so little, or that he was simply that adept at ignoring the truth that practically laid at his feet. He didn’t particularly blame a young prince for having arrogance, but now he was making it Donghyuck’s problem.

The carriage finally pulled to a stop a few moments later, and Donghyuck could hear the suited man hop down from the driver’s seat. Soon the man popped into view and swung the carriage door open, holding an expectant hand up for Mark to take.

Mark hesitated. Instead, he glanced over at Donghyuck with an almost pained expression. “At least let me buy you a little something. It doesn’t have to be too grand.” Then, “I’m sorry.”

Both the carriage driver and Mark were staring at Donghyuck, waiting for an answer; waiting to see if they needed to turn the carriage around right then and there.

Donghyuck sighed. “Alright.”

Mark’s grin was blinding. He placed a gentle hand on top of Donghyuck’s, and Donghyuck would have definitely yanked his hand away if his brain hadn’t stalled out, much to his frustration.

“Thank you,” the prince murmured, his eyes alight, before he grabbed onto the carriage driver’s hand and hopped down with a newfound energy. Donghyuck rolled his eyes; all he had done was agree to the prince buying him something small. Prince Mark was an enigma, as Donghyuck was slowly coming to realize. Donghyuck wasn’t entirely sure what to make of him.

Donghyuck reluctantly took the carriage driver’s hand and hopped out of the compartment. He turned to the driver, “Thanks… ahh— what’s your name, sir?”

The driver looked at him, stunned. “It’s Siwon, young master.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” Donghyuck chuckled, “I haven’t won, not yet.” Donghyuck reached out a hand to shake, and the driver, still looking thoroughly confused, reached out to shake Donghyuck’s hand. “Thank you Siwon, sir.”

*

Donghyuck wasn’t used to the stares.

Mark had insisted on leading Donghyuck by the hand so he wouldn’t get lost. Donghyuck had tried to argue, in his most hostile voice, that he wasn’t a child and didn’t need to be led around, but for once Mark had given him no space to argue.

Now people were staring; who was this mangy little boy, being led around by their nation’s prince as if they were best friends? Donghyuck wasn’t blind; he saw the way people lifted their hands to whisper behind as soon as they thought he wasn’t looking.

Back home, Donghyuck had loved being the center of attention. He would have gone out of his way to get people to look at him the way they were looking right now. Yerim had teased him relentlessly for it, but at the end of the day she had enjoyed the attention just as much as Donghyuck.

Now, he resented the stares. He felt less like the flower boy— the subject of the town’s hottest gossip, the untouchable pinnacle of the social hierarchy— and more like a travelling circus act.

Mark did not seem to notice the attention, or at least he didn’t acknowledge it. Donghyuck supposed that he was probably more than used to it by now. The prince simply plodded through the streets, a cheerful grin on his face and a tight grip on Donghyuck’s arm. At last he pulled him towards the side of the road and into a little shop with a bell above the door.

“Good morning, Mrs. Nakamoto!” He called through the shop. The little establishment appeared to be empty, save for Donghyuck and Mark, and the tiny woman that came rushing out from the back room.

“Mark, dear, how great it is to see you!” Donghyuck watched in barely concealed shock as the woman grabbed Mark’s face in her two tiny, aged hands and pulled it down so she could plant a kiss right on his cheek. Mark did not seem surprised; he only laughed and smiled, looking very much like a little boy being fussed over by an aunt. “My, it’s only been a few months, but you’ve grown even more!”

“Oh, I find that hard to believe, Mrs. Nakamoto. My physician told me I’d stopped growing already!”

“Well you know, physicians can’t know everything, just like the folks who predict the weather.” She released her hold on Mark’s cheeks and moved to yank on a strand of his hair. “Mothers, however, our wisdom is infinite.”

Mark giggled, a light and cheerful thing, like a bell. He looked so innocently happy; a pang echoed through Donghyuck’s chest.

“Now, who’s this here?” Mrs. Nakamoto had turned to Donghyuck, and she was now investigating him, one neatly plucked eyebrow raised. She suddenly gasped, her expression changing on a dime. “Wait, don’t tell me— is this the kid you sponsored? I’ve been hearing things…”

Mark sighed, still smiling. “I’m sure you have. His name is Donghyuck. Donghyuck, this is Mrs. Nakamoto.” He waved his hand between the two, and before Donghyuck could even register what was happening, Mrs. Nakamoto was scooping him into a hug.

The woman was stronger than she looked. As soon as Donghyuck was finished catching his breath from her squeezing grip, he couldn’t stop himself from melting into her arms. The embrace of a mother was an entirely unique feeling, one that could not be replicated. They practically dripped with unquestioning love and security, and Donghyuck reckoned that if everyone simply got one hug from a mother, it could end wars.

Mrs. Nakamoto’s size and build was eerily similar to his own mother’s, whom Donghyuck has not seen in more than a year. Mrs. Nakamoto began to speak as he buried his face into her shoulder almost instinctually.

“I could tell that you needed a hug, hon. Most of those kids do,” Her voice was like honey down Donghyuck’s spine. His throat began to close, and his eyes prickled uncomfortably. “You’re in good hands with Mark, so don’t worry, alright?” She pulled back to wipe at Donghyuck’s unshed tears with her thumbs, and she offered up a warm smile. “I hope to see you back in my shop this autumn, wearing a brand-new Imperial Guard uniform. Got it?”

Donghyuck found himself nodding, despite all of his doubts. When Mrs. Nakamoto pulled back, Donghyuck glued his eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with Mark.

“Let me go find my useless son to come help you pick out some clothes, sound good?” Mrs. Nakamoto spoke as she strode towards the back of the shop. Donghyuck glanced up, and for the first time he noticed the shelves of clothing that filled the cozy little shop. Mrs. Nakamoto was a seamstress.

Mrs. Nakamoto yanked open a door that led to a set of stairs, yelling a loud, “ _Yuta!_ ” up to the top floor where they must have lived.

Donghyuck almost jumped out of his skin when an arm came to settle on his shoulders.

“You okay?” Mark inquired, his voice soft. Donghyuck had half the mind to shove him off, but something inside him was still a little melted from Mrs. Nakamoto’s hug, so he only shrugged Mark’s arm of kind of pathetically. Donghyuck’s voice croaked when he responded with an, “I’m fine.”

The rest of their excursion went relatively fine. Although, much to Donghyuck’s chagrin, they had ended up purchasing much more than he had intended to let happen. Donghyuck’s still not entirely sure how it happened, yet here they were, carrying a sizable collection of odds and ends.

They had left the Nakamoto’s shop with another modest outfit, giving him a total of three to choose from. It was a simple white shirt that laced up at the collar, and another pair of comfortable brown trousers.

They had stopped at the armory, where Donghyuck had vehemently refused to purchase anything. He had insisted to Mark that everything there was much too expensive and flashy, and besides— Donghyuck didn’t make a habit wearing armor anyways. They had finally settled on a subtle leather chest piece that was worn beneath the clothes; it was stiff as a board and practically impenetrable yet weighed next to nothing. It offered all the mobility Donghyuck needed, but also a measure of safety that was never ensured when Donghyuck played by chance. Donghyuck hesitated to admit it, but the little piece had made him feel powerful.

They had stopped for a quick lunch at a pub, then spent the afternoon looking at handcrafted weaponry at the blacksmith. Mark had been glowing with pride as he told Donghyuck all about how his favorite sword had been crafted in that very building. They returned to Siwon and the waiting carriage just as the sun began to set, their stomachs full of barbecued meat and carrying a shining new blade, encased in a carved leather sheath.

“How? How did you get away with purchasing all of this?” Donghyuck groaned, dropping their things onto the carriage seat beside him, and Mark giggled. “I swore to you that I wouldn’t let it happen—”

“I guess I’m just that convincing, then.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “Whatever. If you think this changes anything, think again. I don’t need any of this stuff, you know.”

Mark only grinned instead of showing any sign of offense. Donghyuck wanted to punch him in the face.

The ride to the front gates of Camp went by quicker than Donghyuck had expected, and before he knew it, Siwon was once again swinging the door open and offering a hand in assistance, expect this time it went straight for Donghyuck, forgoing Mark.

Donghyuck stared down at the dirt and gravel ground that had replaced the cobblestone of central Turrim. Disturbed by the wheels of the carriage, dust billowed in the air, settling on Siwon’s polished black shoes and making Donghyuck cough.

“Would you like me to walk you to your barracks?” Siwon asked politely. Donghyuck shook his head ‘no’; the last thing he wanted after being poisoned because of his royal sponsorship was to be escorted back by the prince’s own chauffer.

“Thank you, though,” Donghyuck returned politely. He took hold of his new purchases, hiking the sword up his back by the sheath strap, and started towards the gates of Camp. Behind him, he heard as Siwon shut the carriage door and mounted his seat at the front. He listened carefully as the carriage rolled away, getting quieter and quieter until it was too far away for Donghyuck to hear anymore.

As he walked alone down the moonlit path, through the eerily empty central Camp, Donghyuck tried not to think about how difficult it would be returning to his squeaky mattress and stuffy Barracks.

Donghyuck was thankful for the few minutes to himself, though. He pondered over what it would be like, returning to Camp’s general population now. Would people ask where he had gone? If he was alright? Would they look at him with disgust, like they did the night of sponsor announcements?

Donghyuck tried to convince himself that he didn’t care. Really, he didn’t; in a month’s time, he’d either be dead, moving in with the Imperial Guards, or preparing for another year of training. A quarter of the people at Camp would be gone entirely. In reality, what the other gladiators thought of him did not matter. Yet it was hard to forget altogether that someone within these grounds hated him with such passion that they wanted him dead and were willing to act on it.

Donghyuck’s barrack came into view, its low roof and screened windows a familiar sight by now. And as much as Donghyuck would miss the plush comfort of the castle’s hospital wing beds, the familiarity of Renjun and Jeno snoring softly from above and beside him could not be replaced.

Donghyuck rounded the corner entirely ready to collapse in his bed. He was so exhausted; he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to put his things away or even take off his shoes. He glanced up from the ground as he approached the door—

Yangyang stood in front of him.

Donghyuck took a startled step back. His self-proclaimed adversary, who had been leaning on the railing leading up to the door, noticed his presence then.

What surprised Donghyuck, causing him to pause in his tracks, was the nervous bordering on terrified expression that Yangyang wore. The boy’s usual look of contempt was gone, replaced by stiffened shoulders, a bottom lipped trapped by teeth, and eyes that scanned Donghyuck quickly before hesitantly meeting Donghyuck’s gaze.

Donghyuck opened his mouth to speak, but Yangyang beat him to it.

“Listen Donghyuck,” he blurted, “I didn’t do it.”

Donghyuck blinked back in surprise.

“I— I know that I’m probably the prime suspect because I hate you, and I still do, but you _have_ to believe that I didn’t—”

“Yangyang, it’s fine. I know.”

Now it was Yangyang’s turn to stare in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“I still hate you too, Yangyang, but you’re no coward. If you were, I wouldn’t waste my breath with you.”

Yangyang huffed a laugh, and Donghyuck could practically see the anxiety melting off his face. “The arrogance never dies, huh?”

There was an awkward silence for a moment. When the excitement wore off, Donghyuck was back to feeling even more exhausted than before. He slumped forward, reaching for the door.

Just as he was about to disappear into the barrack, he heard a throat clear behind him. He turned back to Yangyang, who was now wearing a rather pained expression.

“Thank you.”

Silence. “For what?”

“For believing it wasn’t me.”

Donghyuck took a deep breath. “It’s really nothing.”

Yangyang stared him in the eye, as if gauging the amount of truth in Donghyuck’s words. “Forget this ever happened, got it?”

Donghyuck nodded. “I was planning on it.”

Yangyang stared at him for one moment longer, as if unsure what to do, before turning around and disappearing around the corner without another word.

Donghyuck barely had a chance to store his things beneath his bed before he was collapsing onto his sheets. All the days’ events faded from his mind and he was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/princehuangss) | [My CuriousCat](curiouscat.qa/princehuangss) ♡


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is finally here after a month, and mainly just things happening as the story shifts from training to the tournament (yayy) so im sorry if its a bit stuffy... ch 8 has lots of exciting things in store and it should be coming soon!
> 
> pls enjoy!! :D

If Donghyuck thought that the days leading up to Sponsor Announcements was tense, then it was nothing compared to the week leading up to Training Evaluations.

Gladiators were working harder than ever before, as if an extra few hours of reckless flailing about with a sword would boost their chances. Donghyuck would walk back to the barracks in the evening, and the sparring rings would be filled to the brim as if it were high noon and not well after dark.

The atmosphere was unbearably heavy. Trust was a rare thing to find at Camp in the first place, but now people were glancing over their shoulder everywhere they went, as if sabotage was waiting for them around every corner. Stress and emotions turned into outbursts at meals. Donghyuck felt like a cornered animal in a cage filled with a hundred other cornered animals.

He was lucky to have Renjun and Jeno to rely on. The trio had begun to retreat to the waterfall to train; the last thing Donghyuck wanted to do was try and find space in one of the sparring rings, tightly packed in between hordes of high-strung people with deadly weapons.

Much to Donghyuck’s relief, things had pretty much gone back to normal after Donghyuck returned to camp. Or, as normal as it could get when people were gearing up for the very thing that would decide their future. People were too busy contemplating life and death to pay much attention to drama.

Yangyang hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction, which was the best part. The peace and quiet was much needed, and based on their last conversation, any interaction would most likely be unbearably awkward anyways.

The first day of Training Evaluations finally descended upon Camp, and Donghyuck was pleased to find that there wasn’t even the smallest of butterflies in his stomach. Their abilities were not being tested by hand-on-hand combat for once, but rather a series of tests administered and judged by the very people they were laying down their lives to join— the Imperial Guard.

The sun had barely peaked over the horizon and dew was still fresh on the grass when Donghyuck was yanked away from his friends, immediately after breakfast. He was herded into a line with a batch of other gladiator trainees, and one by one they were led into one of the sparring rings with a guard that Donghyuck didn’t recognize.

Donghyuck watched closely as the first person went, and then the second; each time the guard droned out his rehearsed set of instructions, and a shaky handed trainee stepped up to the plate.

 _My blade is covered with green dyes,_ the guard would say, _so it can easily be seen where it strikes you. Attempt to dodge as many of my strikes as possible in the two-minute time frame and avoid the blade at all costs. Ready, set... and—_

The next two minutes would be filled with the wide-eyed trainee avoiding the guard’s ruthless sword, occasionally the dulled blade bouncing off ribs or an arm and leaving behind a stripe of green. Green like a deadly poison, bleeding the hope out of each trainee’s eyes with every painted stripe. It was almost pitiable, the way the trainees bumbled around uselessly like an elephant on a tightrope.

At last, Donghyuck arrived at the front of the line.

“Ahh, yes, Lee Donghyuck,” the guard crooned as he coated more poison onto his sword with the grace of a cat, preparing its claws for attack. “I’ve heard all about you. Do you know what we’re doing, or do I need to explain it again?”

Something about this man’s teasing expression and unbothered tone lit a fire in Donghyuck. His perfectly white teeth were revealed as he smirked sideways at Donghyuck. He looked not much older than Donghyuck and his friends, and Donghyuck couldn’t help but wonder if he was one of Camp’s victors from the last few years.

“I think I’ve got it by now,” Donghyuck returned, equally as snarky. He planned on meeting the guard’s fire with fire. He could feel his confidence blowing up like a balloon; if there was one thing he prided himself in besides his stamina, it was agility and instinct.

The guard got into his starting stance, watching Donghyuck with calculated eyes as he hefted his bleeding green blade. Donghyuck narrowed his eyes on the other boy’s form, storing away as much information for later as he could.

_He was wearing only one armguard, on the fore of his right arm. He’s gripping his blade more tightly with his left, so that must mean his right arm is weaker or injured in some way. Now, if I just stay to his weaker side—_

“We shall begin,” The guard spoke calmly, and without hesitance made his first thrash.

Donghyuck was prepared. He dodged immediately to the right. The guard seemed to be caught off guard just briefly as his weakness was immediately taken advantage of; he seemed to compose himself quickly though and slashed to the right.

Donghyuck weaved back and forth, never staying in one place. He knew that he couldn’t show any favor to the guard’s right side, or else he’d catch on to Donghyuck’s hidden card. He’d give him a little slack, letting the guard push him around with his sword like opposite poles of a magnet. Then, when Donghyuck was cornered, he’d fall back on his opponent’s blindside.

With every slice and thrust, the guard’s eyes widened, filling with equal parts intrigue and stumped frustration. It stoked at the fire in Donghyuck’s stomach, and Donghyuck began moving even quicker than before.

Finally, the guard let the sword fall to his side with a relenting sigh. All of the thick, green ink on the blade was still undisturbed, glistening lethally in the late morning sun. The guard offered Donghyuck a wry smile, before picking up a paper scroll and marking something down with a feathered pen.

“Perhaps it’s not all just talk,” the guard murmurs. Donghyuck stares at him, but the boy offers no explanation. “Follow the line to your next assessment. Good luck.” The guard speaks to him without looking up, calling “Next in line, please,” as soon as Donghyuck had left the ring.

*

The rest of the day went smoothly for Donghyuck, and by the time he had completed his last assessment, he was feeling pretty good about his chances. He was glad, when he arrived at the dining hall that evening, to hear that his friends felt the same.

“It was amazing,” Renjun gushed over a steaming cup of beef stew, “The guy totally underestimated me. He took one look at my size and went easy on me.”

Jeno chuckled. “ _That_ was a huge mistake on his part.”

“Damn right it was! I absolutely destroyed him anyways. You should have seen the look on his face.”

“Can’t believe I missed it!”

Donghyuck took in the overwhelming fondness in Jeno’s eyes as Renjun flailed his arms around, in the middle of another story. He had only known them for a few months, but he felt like he had known them for a lifetime. Donghyuck recalled how long it had just been the two of them before he had showed up. He thought about how that could all be taken away from them in a matter of weeks and he suddenly felt sick, and the bowl of stew in front of him lost its appeal.

The next morning went very similarly to the day before. They rose for breakfast like normal, forcing down a lukewarm bowl of whatever the crew on kitchen duty had stirred up. After the meal, they were led all together in one group towards the front courtyard of Camp. They were pushed into neat lines, and members of the Imperial Army yelled at them to stay at attention and be quiet. Donghyuck looked at them in disdain; they always seemed so bitter in all the encounters he’d had with them.

Donghyuck supposed he understood. The Imperial Army was a step down from the guard, as Renjun had informed him. The Imperial Guard were two hundred carefully selected warriors, who worked closely with the royal family and received exclusive treatment. To watch mere peasants, petty thieves, and prisoners jump straight past you to the top would be a blow to anyone’s confidence.

Donghyuck reveled in the fear and insecurity he sparked in these men. He was reminded of the brutish soldiers that had brought him here in the first place, and he knew he had to win this.

Once they were neatly stood in lines, they waited. No one spoke a word; sweat from the mid-June heat ran down the back of Donghyuck's neck in rivulets, and the long grass swam around his legs, making them itch.

People Donghyuck recognized as Sponsors filtered in next, characterized by their expensive satin gowns and delicate parasols protecting them from the sun. They took their seats in the shaded benches, of which Donghyuck was very jealous. The benches faced the lines of gladiators, just behind an ornate podium of mahogany wood and the flag of the royal family fluttering at the front. He could see the common people gathering outside the gates of Camp, could hear the excited chatter from here.

The chatter grew into a deafening thrum. Donghyuck peeked over the head of the boy next to him, and his heart caught in his throat at the sight of the all-too-familiar carriage as it rolled to a stop outside the gates.

"Who's that, do you think?" Jeno whispered excitedly to Donghyuck's right.

Donghyuck didn't respond. His eyes were captured by the spectacle that was the prince's arrival. It was so dramatic, so _him_ that Donghyuck couldn't restrain an eyeroll.

The carriage remained stationary, in waiting as the gates were swung open by a pair of guards. These two looked regal and important, even more so than the rest of the Imperial Guards that followed behind them in two neat lines. These two had white uniforms against the other guards' red. The one on the left wore a navy-blue sash and towered over everyone around him. The one on the right wore a gold sash, and from the air of importance detectable from a hundred feet away, Donghyuck guessed that this one must have been Mark’s second in command.

The procession was truly a sight to behold. Donghyuck suddenly felt so small as the guards fell into pin-straight lines, and trumpets were raised to announce the arrival of Rhyfel’s young heir to the throne.

Donghyuck had to admit that the prince did an amazing job of putting on this regal front like a mask. He watched as Mark strode forward between his two rows of guards, each step sure and head held high, and he was almost unrecognizable to the bumbling boy who had taken Donghyuck shopping in the city, desperate to impress.

Mark stepped up to the podium, and the clearing was virtually silent, save for a few reserved smatterings of applause from the sponsors.

“Greetings, everyone,” Mark spoke, “and welcome to the official commencement of this year’s Summer Tournament.”

Applause from the sponsors. Silence from the gladiators.

“As usual, those eligible have been split into two brackets, carefully selected by my guards through a series of challenging tasks. By the end of the tournament, we will have two gladiators come out victorious. Those in the first bracket will now be announced.”

Everyone held their breath as Mark unfurled a roll of parchment and scanned the names. He began to list them off one by one.

Some of the names he vaguely recognized, some not at all. Thus far, no Chenle, Renjun, or Jeno. Donghyuck felt as if his heart might fall out of his chest.

“Lee Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck’s ears began to buzz. _Huh?_

He could vaguely register Jeno clutching onto his arm, murmuring an ecstatic congratulations in his ear, but all Donghyuck could focus on was the feeling in his chest, winded and pained as if someone had kicked him there.

Was he lucky, or very very unlucky?

By the time he looked up, Mark had already moved on down the list.

“Liu Yangyang.”

Donghyuck followed his eyes to Yangyang, and immediately looked away upon seeing the stricken state of his enemy’s eyes.

After a few more names, Bracket One had been completed. There was a brief pause to allow for a round of applause, and Donghyuck could tell from who clapped the loudest which sponsors had had their gladiator’s name announced.

“We will now begin Bracket Two.”

Silence once again. Then a few new names.

“Huang Renjun.”

Donghyuck glanced over to see Jeno gripping Renjun’s hand and biting his lip.

“Seo Hyeongjun.”

“Lee Jeno.”

Donghyuck could just barely see Jeno’s conflicted expression where he was staring at the ground, as if hoping for it to swallow him whole.

Mark read the remaining names under Bracket Two, but Donghyuck wasn’t listening. His attention faded in and out of focus, occasionally fixing upon the way Renjun’s thumb stroked comforting circles into the back of Jeno’s hand.

*

That evening found them at the waterfall.

Chenle had turned in earlier. The younger boy had not made it to the tournament, as expected, but he’d been so worried about all of his friends making it that he had exhausted himself, so Donghyuck had sent him back to the barracks to get some rest.

The sky was painted with gorgeous hues of pink and orange, as if the powers of nature were taking pity upon their sorrowful state. Lifelike shadows danced across their faces from the newly born fire crackling in front of them. The white noise of the water trickling over the riverbed and the trees rustling past the cliff filled Donghyuck’s ears, blanketing over the anxious silence between friends.

Renjun sat between Jeno’s legs on the ground, expression stony. Jeno, seated on the log behind him, ran fingers through Renjun’s hair, furrowed brows and lower lip between teeth betraying his mental state.

“Well, we’ve all made it,” Renjun announced. No one responded.

Another thirty seconds of silence went by before Jeno broke it again.

“You know what always helps when one is faced with emotional turmoil?”

Renjun craned his neck to look at him, confused. “What?”

Jeno raised an unidentifiable burlap sack with a mischievous grin. “A change in appearance.”

From the sack Jeno drew a pair of barber’s scissors and a bottle of cosmetic bleach. Donghyuck’s eyes widened. “Where did you get all of that?!”

Jeno grinned. “That’s for me to know.”

Renjun wolf whistled. “Alright then! What did you have planned?”

Jeno’s eyes scanned over Donghyuck, scrutinizing. Donghyuck reached a hand up to tug at his golden-brown locks. His hair had gotten quite long, and often fell in his face while he practiced. Although, he had grown fond of the length. It made him feel powerful, almost unapproachable for reasons he didn’t know. He told Jeno as much.

Jeno nodded. “I agree, longer hair does suit you. I think I know how to make it more functional though.” His friend came to stand behind him and began playing with his hair. After a minute or so, he placed his hands on Donghyuck’s shoulders and leaned down to speak in his ear.

“Do you trust me?” Jeno asked. Donghyuck nodded, and Jeno got to work.

Jeno spent the better part of an hour shearing and snipping at Donghyuck’s hair. Donghyuck had no idea what sort of end result Jeno had in mind, but he would trust the older boy with his life, so he did not question it. He finished off his work by laying some bleach in the ends of his hair before moving on to Renjun.

Renjun’s hair had become quite long as well. Jeno was much more liberal with his shears on Renjun, even taking a small blade to cut the hair close at his nape and by his ears. The hair on top, however, Jeno kept long. He colored Renjun’s already dark hair a raven black, and if the whole camp hadn’t already cowered before the small-statured boy, then they certainly would now.

By the time Jeno was finished with Renjun and had rinsed the bleach from Donghyuck’s hair, the moon was all that guided them. Donghyuck stooped over the tiny creek that fed into the waterfall to observe his appearance in the reflection.

The cut was choppy, sheared in seemingly random lengths across his head, yet it didn’t look unnatural. His bangs no longer fell in his eyes; his entire head, in fact, was about the length he had worn it in back at home, save for the hair in the back, which was still long enough to brush his shoulders. These longer strands had been bleached, now a pale blond in contrast to Donghyuck’s natural brown everywhere else.

Donghyuck grinned. He had always been taught that your appearance was directly linked to your pride; self-expression through your hair and clothes was just as powerful as the mightiest sword. And right now, Donghyuck felt strong enough to take all of Valka on his own. An idea struck him, and he turned to his friends with a flame in his chest.

“Let me show you something,” Donghyuck said.

When he had his friends’ attention, he carefully moved his shirt aside to expose the skin of his shoulder. He could hear Jeno and Renjun gasp. Donghyuck admired the way the moonlight seemed to make the golden designs etched into his skin glow.

The sun design spanned over his whole left shoulder blade, the longest rays curling across his spine, up the back of his neck and even down his arm.

“I had seen peeks of it,” Jeno breathed, “But I never thought much of it. Donghyuck, it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Does it have a certain meaning?” Renjun asked.

Donghyuck nodded. “Where I’m from, everyone at age thirteen gets a tattoo, the design of which is chosen by our mothers. Mothers are supposed to know their children the best, and so the design portrays an aspect of our personality. The designs are supposed to guide us through adulthood as we go off on our own. The people of Condor place high respect in nature spirits, and we believe that if spirits see our marks, then they’ll grant us goodwill.”

Renjun traces a finger over the design, eyes aglow with awe and reverence. “That’s fascinating. Your mother chose the sun?”

Donghyuck snorted. “Believe it or not, I was a very bright and optimistic child. It’s hard to believe, knowing who I am now.”

“I believe that,” Jeno inserted, “Trauma never gets rid of who we are. It may change you a lot, but the old you will always shine through. I see it in the way you help Chenle, or feed breakfast to Chip. I hear it when you laugh at my dumb jokes, or when you hum songs when you think no one is listening.”

Donghyuck’s eyes shot up to Jeno’s. He saw nothing but genuine love there, and for a moment Donghyuck couldn’t speak past the heart lodged in his throat.

Renjun murmurs, “It’s true. We’ve all come out of this worse for wear, and I feel nothing but resentment for the people who have put us through this.” Renjun carded careful fingers through Jeno’s hair, shaking out loose strands as he cut away. “But they’ll never be able to take away our humanity, and that is what keeps me going.”

Donghyuck’s throat tightened and eyes pricked. For once, he let a few tears make their way down his cheeks. He watched as Jeno grabbed hold of one of Renjun’s hands, Renjun responding by planting a featherlight kiss to the crown of his head.

All he wanted was to run far away from here with the two people he had become so close with these last few months. He wanted for Renjun and Jeno to find their happily ever after, for Jeno to be reunited with his family after all these years. He wanted it all, yet he could have none of it.

“Let me give you two tattoos.”

“Huh?” Renjun and Jeno spoke in unison.

“We’ll have to find time before the first rounds of the tournament, and it won’t be amazing work, or colored gold like mine— but I would like to know you both are in good hands.”

Renjun smiled. “I would be honored.”

“But you’re not our mother,” Jeno spoke up.

Donghyuck chuckled. “I’m sure that the nature spirits will pardon it just this once. They’re forgiving like that.”

*

The first week, they were told, would be the first round matches for Bracket One. This meant that Donghyuck had a couple days before his first battle of the tournament, and Jeno and Renjun wouldn’t be fighting until the following week.

They weren’t allowed to leave the barracks and were supervised at all times by the Imperial Guards, at a suffocating two to one ratio. Yet somehow, the night before the Opening Ceremony, Jeno’s guard friend Yukhei was able to sneak in some most certainly contraband needles and ink. Donghyuck still couldn’t wrap his head around the lengths this guard went to for them. Jeno must have meant a lot to Yukhei, because if he was caught then Donghyuck didn’t even want to know what kind of consequences the guard would face.

The night before the Opening Ceremony, Donghyuck etched designs into his friends’ skin. A silver fox wrapped around Renjun’s forearm, bushy tail brushing the pale skin of his wrist. To match, an Arctic Wolf now raced across Jeno’s lower back, spanning from one side to the other. Marks of animals were the most common, but Donghyuck couldn’t think of anything more perfect to protect and guide his friends than these creatures.

The gladiators were shuffled out of bed the next day with a sense of urgency. Stragglers were yanked out of bed by their collars, and they were shoved into lines to head to the arena.

Donghyuck was met by a warm breeze and clear, blue skies, only disrupted by the occasional puffy, white cloud. The loveliness of the day was almost infuriating— Donghyuck felt like the nature spirits were personally mocking him as he and his fellow gladiators were marched to the arena for the Opening Ceremony.

Donghyuck was reminded with clarity of the day he had been marched into the Isles of Rhyfel as nothing but a lowly prisoner. He felt the same unpleasant fog settle over his mind with every sluggish step, and the same cornered frustration at the people who ogled and craned their necks to watch as they marched by. This time, however, the crowds were there solely to ogle at them.

When Donghyuck looked around at the people lining the streets and whispering excitedly behind their hands, he recognized the threadbare clothes in drab colors, the dirty faces and worn-out shoes. These were the people who were too poor to buy admission to the arena but were still invested in the outcome of the Games.

Their final destination finally came looming into view, and with it the deafening cheers of a waiting audience within. The arena was gargantuan, a towering structure built from grey stone, casting ugly shadows onto all of the much smaller buildings surrounding it. Donghyuck hated it already, but he supposed he’d have to get used to it quick.

He’d be spending a lot of time there in the coming weeks, after all. If he was lucky.

The stone walls shook as they stepped inside. The audience was already roaring and stomping their feet, and the gladiators hadn’t even made an appearance yet. Sweat trickled down the back of Donghyuck’s neck like gnarled fingers, and it was not just from the suffocating July heat.

Nothing, absolutely _nothing,_ could have prepared Donghyuck for stepping out into the middle of the stadium for the first time.

He had thought the crowd had been loud from the stadium halls, but it was almost weak compared to when they stepped through the arena entrance and out onto the floor.

The stadium seats sloped up almost vertically, deafening jeers and shouts raining down from all sides. Donghyuck had never seen this many people in one place in his entire life, and now they were surrounding him on all sides, watching his every move, cheering and taunting as if he were a circus act. Which, in a way, he supposed was correct.

He almost allowed himself to get lost in the sheer magnitude of it all until a warm hand took his and squeezed. Donghyuck looked up to see Jeno walking beside him, asking with worried eyes if he was alright. Donghyuck nodded to reassure him that he was fine, and they marched on.

They were once again shoved in lines, right in front of the arena’s nicest spectator box. Donghyuck glared up at the prince, sitting comfortably in his gold-plated throne. His expression was almost bored as he scanned their ranks, as if looking for something. When his eyes finally found Donghyuck, his expression warmed. Donghyuck scowled and looked away.

It took a few minutes, but at last the noise of the crowd settled to a low hum. Prince Mark stepped forward, holding his hands up with a placating smile and looking entirely the people pleaser he was born to be.

“To the people of Turrim, and to all of those who have travelled from all corners of the Isles to take part in this historic sport,” Prince Mark spoke into a horn propped up on a stand, projecting his voice throughout the entire stadium, “Thank you for joining us today as we celebrate the opening of this year’s Summer Gladiator “Tournament.”

He paused for a moment, allowing the audience to cheer and shout and clap some more. Donghyuck let his eyes wander back up to him. The Prince was dressed in a pristine white jacket, gold accents glittering in the hot afternoon sun. Donghyuck looked behind him and with shock, he realized that the people sitting in matching thrones to either side of him were Rhyfel’s king and queen. He had never seen them before, but they looked just as Donghyuck had expected; older looking, yet still holding a graceful beauty that could only be achieved with unattainable amounts of wealth. They watched quietly from the side, wearing proud expressions as their only son led his very first Summer Tournament.

Donghyuck tried to imagine a tiny Mark, cradled in the arms of the queen as she whispered old stories and tucked him gently into bed. He tried to imagine her teaching Mark how to plant carrots in their garden like Donghyuck’s mother had, or the king explaining to Mark the fine details of bartering prices at the market like Donghyuck’s father had.

“This year’s batch is an incredibly talented group, as I and the other sponsors will vouch for,” Chatters of laughter from the crowd.

Maybe Donghyuck should lose on purpose in the first round, just to spite Mark.

Donghyuck tuned the prince’s voice out as he spouted a few more rounds of useless, ceremonial hogwash. Donghyuck vaguely registered his name being called as they announced the brackets and when the matches would be happening.

Donghyuck was brought back to the earth when the sound of horns filled the stadium, and people were on their feet, stomping and shouting the loudest they’d been.

Donghyuck could barely hear Prince Mark as he spoke his final words, shouting across the arena.

“Let the tournament begin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/princehuangss) | [My CuriousCat](curiouscat.qa/princehuangss) ♡

**Author's Note:**

> twitter + curiouscat: @princehuangss


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